


Racing Down the Barrel

by CrackingLamb



Series: Soldier, Spectre, Savior [2]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Additional Characters to Be Added As They Show Up, Body Horror, Canon Divergent, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Flashbacks, Implied/Referenced Amputation, anger issues, if you're reading this anywhere other than ao3 it's been stolen, please report it thanks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2020-11-01 22:04:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 35
Words: 72,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20522246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrackingLamb/pseuds/CrackingLamb
Summary: Jayne Shepard has been resurrected and she's back to her plan to stop the Reapers, even if it means working with Cerberus.  The voice in the void is gone.  Isn't it?Isn't it?This is a sequel to Flash In the Pan, which should be read first.NSFW chapters are marked for your convenience.





	1. Send Me An...

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to Part Two. I'll warn you now, this is a longer and more angst-ridden fic than Flash. But there will be plenty of lighter moments, don't let the tags scare you.

Omega was dirty, smelly and loud. The perfect counterpoint to the empty silence in her head. Who'd have thought she'd miss the voice in the void? At least it had been honest, even if she didn't know if it was real or imagined.

Jayne Shepard wandered the alleys and wings of the asteroid station, careful to keep her expression neutral and her gun handy. The mood of the place suited her just fine after all she'd been through in the last few weeks since she woke and found herself in the clutches of Cerberus.

She outpaced Miranda and Jacob, peevishly wanting to lose them in the crowds, or maybe just get herself into a position to quietly off them both. She was in the right place for that too.

_Stop thinking about it, Jayney. You have 'assets' to find. You need them still_.

_Fuck the Illusive Man_, she argued back to herself. _Fuck anyone who works for him. Fuck all of this_.

_Human colony worlds, Jayney. Think about the big picture. He's the only one doing anything about it_.

She kicked a wall, a resounding thud that didn't do anything to her mood other than bruise her toes and make her more angry.

“Are you all right, Shepard?” Miranda asked, her perfectly modulated voice clearing the fog in her brain, leaving only impotent rage behind. Why did it have to be Cerberus?

“Fine,” she spat. “Where are we going again?”

“Afterlife.” Miranda's tone was careful, as if she knew just how much Jayne hated her – or at least hated the organization she worked for.

“Right.” She stalked off again, leaving her unwanted companions to either catch up or not. She caught a reflection of herself in a darkened flat screen and cringed once again, just as she had the first time she'd looked at herself in a mirror. Scars crisscrossed her face, glowing a dull orange from the implants and cybernetics holding her skull together. She knew where each and every other mark of her reconstruction was too, could feel them every time she moved. Her hair was still the same blonde as before, once again regulation short, and her eyes were still the vibrant violet they'd always been, but she didn't look like herself. Didn't _feel_ like herself.

_How does one come back from death?_

_ With an attitude. And a powerful gun_.

***

“So you want him dead too?” Aria T'Loak asked, lounging against the red leather of the curved sofa. Jayne sat well away from her, keeping an eye on the asari's bodyguards, fully aware the self styled leader of Omega didn't need them.

“Why is everyone after him?”

“He thinks he's fighting for the side of good. There _is_ no good side to Omega. Everything he does pisses someone off.”

“He sounds delightful,” she said with a certain level of sour sarcasm. Great, just what she needed, an optimistic vigilante.

Aria laughed. “I think I like you, Shepard.”

“Feeling's mutual.”

“If you want him, go ahead and get him. I won't interfere. If nothing else, it will winnow the schools of little fish who think they can overthrow me.”

Jayne stood and gave a nod to the asari, who smiled back. Pleasantries exchanged, information gathered and permission granted, she wanted nothing more than to get out of the club. She needed to keep moving, and the idea of fighting her way through a horde of mercs appealed to her current temper.

“Shall we go?” she asked in a too sweet voice. She led Miranda and Jacob back out into the streets, intent on making her first stop at the Blue Suns outpost to sign on as an independent merc. That was her only ticket in to finding this particular asset before the merc groups killed him.

***

“Archangel?” she called to the heavily shadowed figure still sniping over the edge of a low wall. It had been hard to pinpoint him as they crossed the bridge. And with all the chaos around, it wasn't like she had a chance to stop to find him and figure him out. She did now as he approached, twisting the helmet off his head. She caught sight of three digits and a narrow waist, pointed toes and leg spurs. The constant backdrop of anger that had been her guiding emotion since waking ticked down, leaving her agile brain to think clearly for once.

_Turian_.

_ I know that swagger_, she thought as he dropped the helmet and stepped into the light to sit on a pile of boxes, the rifle slung across his legs.

“Shepard,” he said, the subvocals hitting her harder than a sledgehammer to the gut. “I thought you were dead.”

Shock dropped her mouth open, but a spike of joy turned it to a wide smile. “Garrus Vakarian! What the hell are you doing here?” She spread her arms, rushing to him but stopping short when he didn't rise to embrace her. His gaze pinned her in place, not quite accusatory, but hardly as welcoming as she'd hoped. Softly, she said, “I _was_ dead. Two years I was dead.”

His blue eyes roved over her, his visor probably detailing everything more succinctly than she could say aloud. _Cybernetics, prosthetics, implants, grafts, wetware._.. He nodded, noting the Cerberus logo on her armor. She looked him over herself, seeing the spent stims around him that told her more about his physical state than she cared to contemplate. He was exhausted, nearly depleted. She'd seen the covered bodies that must have been his team. No wonder he was immune to shock at this point. It was amazing he was still conscious. This was no optimistic vigilante, this was one very determined former C-Sec officer _turned_ vigilante.

“How'd you piss off every major merc organization in the Terminus Systems?” she inquired crisply, trying to inject more _Commander_ than _lover_ into her voice.

“What this? This is just target practice,” he said offhandedly. Something resembling a smile passed through his mandibles before his expression turned bitter. “Hey, it wasn't easy. I _really_ had to work at it.”

“How did you end up like this?”

“I let my emotions get in the way of my better judgment. I'll tell you what, you get me out of this, I'll tell you the whole damned story.” It appeared she wasn't the only dealing with a surfeit of anger. She carefully made a mental note of it. Garrus had changed.

_ Well, _s_o have I_, she thought.

“Right. Let's see what they're up to,” he said. He stood and looked through the scope of his rifle to see if anyone else was making a foray. She stood next to him as he looked before he offered it to her. She sighted and took a swift shot that nevertheless blew off the head of a mech, tallying up one less invader.

“Eclipse. They're almost clever, sending in the mechs first to test your defenses.”

“It's good to see you, Jayne,” he said, his voice low enough that it didn't carry. She could hear the thread of humor in it now, frayed and tired, but there. “I admit, when you first stepped onto the bridge, I thought you might be a spirit.”

She smiled. “There are times when I feel like one. You shot me, you know.”

“Just concussive rounds,” he said with a shrug. “Didn't want the mercs getting suspicious. Besides, you were taking too long to get moving.”

“Did you know it was me?”

“I didn't want to believe it. Once I did...” He stroked the back of a single talon down her cheek, tracing the still glowing scars. She leaned into his touch. “Do they hurt?”

“Some,” she understated.

“I'm sorry.”

“Not your fault.”

“You're quite a patchwork now.”

“Yeah, I know.” She didn't like to think about how all her limbs were now artificial, how many organs had been replaced or rebuilt, how much of her blood was actually nanobot processors to keep it all running smoothly. How much of her wasn't _her_. Sure, she was far more indestructible than she'd ever been, but what had been the cost to her soul?

“Still...it _is_ good to see you.” He looked like he wanted to put his arm around her, to pull her close the way he would not have hesitated to do two years ago. But he wasn't sure of himself, or of the propriety of it. And between them their collective fury simmered like a palpable, living thing. So she leaned on him herself, pressing her forehead against his keel the way she used to, willing herself to let her anger go and just enjoy having him be near her. Hesitantly his free arm rose up to circle her waist. After a moment, his chin rested on top of her head.

“I'm here now, and we're gonna kick some ass. Together.”

“Just like old times.” His touch was firmer, and she finally grew solid again. Rooted like a tree, real and actually _alive_ rather than just resurrected. Seeing Tali on Freedom's Progress hadn't affected her like this, but then again, she hadn't been nearly as close to the quarian as she was to him. She heaved a deep breath that was nearly a sob and knew that he heard it from the way his talons flexed on her back. The anger lost its grasp.

“So...Archangel?”

He snorted. “Just a little name the locals gave me, for all my...good deeds.”

“Right.”

His mandibles flared against her hair. “I'm still just Garrus to you.”

“Just _my_ Garrus?” she asked pointedly, tipping her face up to his. He looked solemn, his eyes following the scars and lines of her face. But he nodded his agreement and she felt another piece of herself fit into place. “Good,” she whispered. “I need you.”

“Jayne...”

The rumble of the next wave of attackers cut him off and he took the rifle back from her. There would be plenty of time after to figure out where they were. For now they had to survive this.

***

She didn't like leaving him. Didn't like leaving Jacob with him after his less than supportive comments. But she had a job to do, clearing out the lower level while Garrus kept up the distraction over the bridge. She was fresher than he was for certain, and she made sure not a single merc got past her and Miranda. They worked their way steadily through the ranks of them, fighting back up to the sniper's nest when Garrus sent her a frantic call that they were coming through the door. She shot down the vorcha backup of the Blood Pack and waded into the fray again.

“So that's how it is?” Garm snarled and she grinned at him before ducking behind a column for cover. “Rip'em to shreds!”

The old merc leader didn't go down without a fight, but she knew krogan mercs well enough to know how to kill them. She hadn't counted on the Blue Suns gunship being repaired so quickly though, and barely got to her feet after taking Garm down when she heard it open fire above. Garrus cried out and she wanted to run. Miranda held her back.

“Dammit, Miranda...”

“We can't just walk into that much open live fire, Shepard. Use your head.” A rocket blast rattled the whole building a second later, and she shook off Miranda's clawing arm, racing up the stairs.

Garrus lay in a pool of spreading blue blood, his face turned too far to the floor for her see how badly he was hurt. Or whether or not he was even breathing. The ship was still firing, peppering the furniture and crates he'd stacked for cover into splinters. “Take that thing down,” she ordered the other two, ducking down to reload.

It was taking too long, and she felt her biotics ramping up as her panic increased. She sent out a blast of Throw, tipping the ship off balance and ramming it into the side of the next building. Jacob and Miranda continually hammered at its armor, ripping through the underbelly of the ship until it exploded. Then she rushed to Garrus.

He was conscious, his eyes wild with pain. He was choking on his blood and she hauled him more upright, heedless of the horrific wound on his face and neck. He needed to get air. “We're getting you out here, babe. Just hold on. Please...”

“He looks bad,” Jacob said. “Joker better hurry.”


	2. Anchor To My Lifeboat**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, let's start this fic with a 'bang'! NSFW ahead.

“I've done all I can for him,” Dr. Chakwas said.

“I know.” Jayne scrubbed at her hands, swearing she could still feel the blood. It was so much worse than when she'd cradled Nihlus as he died. Her armor was still covered in blue, and even though she'd washed her hands repeatedly, she could still sense it, slightly caustic and smelling so strongly of copper she didn't think anything could erase it.

“I'm going to keep him sedated for at least twenty four hours, Commander. He needs all the rest he can get, and he was already suffering a dangerous amount of exhaustion, dehydration and chemical burnout. You don't have to stay.”

“I know that too.”

“Commander,” Chakwas laid a hand on Jayne's shoulder, squeezing gently. “He is going to live. But it will be a long road.”

Jayne looked up at her, seeing the sympathy and compassion in her eyes. Chakwas had no more love of Cerberus than she did, but just like Joker, when the black ops organization had come calling with her name on their lips, she'd jumped at the chance to both be in space again and to be with Shepard.

“I got you that ice brandy, Karin,” she whispered.

“You didn't,” Chakwas said, aghast. “I can't imagine how much it cost you.”

“You just saved the man I...” She stopped and cleared her throat. “It was worth every cred.”

“We'll open it once he wakes, and you'll drink with me.” It wasn't a request.

“Deal.”

Chakwas gave her shoulder a final squeeze. “Get some rest yourself, Commander. You need it too. I'm not altogether happy with how some of your _enhancements_ are integrating.”

“Later.”

Chakwas sighed and shook her head. “I'll be back in an hour or two. If you're still here, I'll sedate you too.”

Jayne cracked a smile. “Only if you can catch me.”

“I promise you, Commander, I can catch you,” she drawled, then left the medbay.

Jayne threaded her fingers through Garrus's limp talons, seeing nicks and cuts that she hadn't noticed before. She made herself look at the bandaging around his jaw and crest, holding his face together so the tissue could knit itself whole. He'd lost the top layer of his mouthplate, and the whole right mandible had to be reattached and rebuilt with prosthetic muscle and synthetic bone to keep it functional. Chakwas had done as best she could with the ear canal – normally hidden behind a plated membrane where mandible met skull, currently exposed from the injury – but he would need an implant to hear with it once the rest of his face could stand any more trauma. He was lucky he hadn't lost his eye into the bargain.

And all that was not counting the number of bullets Chakwas had pulled from his chest plates and abdomen. Thankfully, few had penetrated into his gut, and none had been life threatening on their own, but taken altogether, it was a miracle Garrus was alive. Jayne knew full well that if he had taken that rocket directly to his face, as opposed to it impacting the floor near his head as it had, he would be dead.

His heart beat steadily, if slowly, and a bright yellow bag of fluids dripped into his veins. A similar one colored more blue hung from another IV. Electrolytes and fluids and antibiotics suitable for his species. Enough sedation to kill an elephant – which was just about enough to keep an adult, male turian asleep. She'd spent too much time in medbays not to know what everything was for. She'd never known such fear before, however. Chakwas's promise that he would live hadn't assuaged that fear. Nothing would, until he woke and told her himself that he was going to make it. She began to understand the expression that had been in his eyes when she sauntered into his sniper's nest, to all appearances perfectly fine after two years of presumed death. Grief, anger and the alleviation of both all at once.

“Oh Garrus,” she murmured, laying her head down on the bed near their joined hands. “I just got you back. Don't you leave me now.”

***

_2183_

“You've done the Council a great service,” Councilor Tevos said, her gaze sweeping over the devastation of the Citadel. The tower itself was still in shambles and unusable, so this ceremony was taking place in the Presidium Gardens, open to what public had returned after Sovereign's attack. Jayne held back a smirk with great effort, and merely accepted the thanks.

“Humanity has earned its place among the Council,” Councilor Valern said and she turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “We will obviously leave it to your people to decide who among you is best qualified to serve, but I'm sure a recommendation from the first human Spectre would go a long way.”

They all looked at her expectantly and she turned to look between Udina and Uncle David. This was her chance for payback against the Ambassador for all his sniveling and conniving that nearly cost them everything. It was still hard to believe it had only been a few short weeks since she'd stolen the Normandy and gone through the Mu Relay. Saving the Citadel had made Udina backtrack on much of what he'd said, and of course, there had been no legal repercussions for Anderson for decking him – C-Sec had enough on their hands without dealing with spurious human assaults. They'd remanded the case to Admiral Hackett's jurisdiction. Hackett had laughed, from what she heard, and dropped the charge as a minor misunderstanding.

Now she was tired and just wanted to see if her apartment still had walls. She didn't really want to make any more decisions on behalf of her race.

“This was only the first battle,” she said. “The Reapers are still out there. I think humanity – and the Council – would be best served with a military mind at present. I'm sure you think I am biased since he raised me after Mindoir, but frankly, Captain Anderson believed in me when Ambassador Udina only hindered me. To my mind, there is no better choice than Anderson for the coming war. But I will leave the actual choosing to the rest of mankind, if you don't mind. I think I've earned myself a respite from making galaxy shattering decisions.”

“As you wish, Shepard,” Councilor Sparatus said. Of the three of them, he probably understood best what she was feeling. After all, all turians served in the military for a portion of their lives.

“Where will you go now?” Tevos asked.

“I'm going home. Whatever is left of it.” She turned her back on them and walked away, never even giving Udina the satisfaction of responding to her thrown gauntlet. But she could hear the bickering start before she even reached the nearest walkway over the lakes.

***

_2183_

“Hey,” Garrus said, standing in the open door of her apartment, civvies hanging loose on his frame, a brown bottle in his talons. Somewhere he'd found beer.

“Hey,” she said back, wiping the sweat from her forehead. Their building had escaped the worst of the fighting, but it was still dirty and disheveled. She'd spent over an hour putting it to rights. Her duffel hadn't even been unpacked yet, still slung haphazardly across the kitchen bar.

“Want some company?”

“Always if it's you.” He offered her the bottle as she approached him and she took it gratefully. It was icy cold and she sighed happily, even if it was dextro. Didn't matter, she didn't have allergies. He watched her drink, his eyes transfixed on her tongue as she licked her lips. “What kind of company keeping did you have in mind?”

He made sure she had put the beer down before he swept her into his arms and threw her over his shoulder, kicking her door shut with a solidly planted foot.

“Ack! Garrus!”

Laughing, he carried her down the short hallway to the bedroom and tossed her on the bed, scattering the array of pillows and raising a puff of dust. She barely shimmied out of her pants before he was on her, licking up the sweat along the column of her throat, humming her favorite purr.

They tugged at each other's remaining clothes until they were naked, remembering how they'd done this the night before reaching Ilos, when they'd been so afraid it would be the last time. She wrapped herself around him and he plunged into her, sealing them together with matching groans.

It was fast and frantic, a grappling release of all the tension they'd carried since battling the geth and Saren. Garrus pulled her up into his arms, sitting back on his haunches to rock her back and forth, blazing a trail of sensation inside her from the new angle. He held tight to her backside, keeping her balanced. She cupped his face, meeting his mouth with hers, their tongues flicking and tasting. Jayne came hard, clenched on him, biting down on the meat of his tongue so he grunted and squeezed her tight enough to bruise. He pushed her backwards then. She lay arched over his knees, his spurs within reach of her fingertips. He liked having her that way, where he could see where they were joined, could watch himself move in and out of her as she held onto his spurs like a lifeline.

“Garrus...”

“I never thought I'd have you again,” he murmured, his hands moving over her body, cupping and molding and tracing. “I was so afraid...”

“We made it,” she said. “We lived.”

“We did.” He thrust into her with sudden urgency and she unfolded her legs from his and let him pound at her, filling her until it almost hurt, hitting spots inside her that demanded more and more. She gave a cry and jubilantly went over the edge of another orgasm, feeling him follow, pulsing together in harmony.

He rolled them over afterwards, so she was sprawled across his body. He pushed her hair behind her ears. It had grown out in the months they'd been on the Normandy and was curling into a disarray that would have infuriated her old N training Commander.

“Let's never leave again,” Garrus said. “Let's just stay here forever.”

“You know we can't.”

“Yes we can.”

She laughed. “Oh, Garrus...”

***

Dr. Chakwas found her there, asleep against the edge of the medbay bed, her hand tangled with his. She draped a blanket over Jayne's shoulders. She knew the Commander would wake stiff and sore, but wouldn't breathe a word of complaint. She made a mental note to get out an analgesic pack for when she woke and went back to her duty station to write up her report of Garrus's various surgeries and projected recovery.

And while she was at it, she would take a look at the file the Illusive Man had finally sent her on the Lazarus Project, now that Jayne was alive and well and no longer classified – well, at least to her. She wanted to know how much she could hasten the healing of all those scars. Not to mention, how she was going to deal with all those artificial parts the first time Jayne got injured doing her job, as she inevitably would.

“EDI, dim the lights, if you please, except over my station,” she said aloud, but softly enough not to wake the Commander. If she'd done her math right – and she was confident that she had – Garrus wouldn't wake if a bomb went off.

“As you wish, Doctor,” the AI said, equally as quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Having spent entirely too much time watching ME2 and 3 videos, and an equal amount of time talking turian anatomy and headcannons with @Rosebud1773, I feel the extent of Garrus's injuries is _hugely_ understated in the game. By all rights, he should have been killed by that blast, or at least maimed to the point of being permanently disabled. Granted, we don't know how much time has passed when he comes strutting into the conference room asking for a mirror. It could be several days to weeks for all we know. Either way, his injuries are significantly horrifying when you think about it, and my detail oriented ass went through a sudden 'OMG, how can I write this without too much gore?' phase. I hope I did it justice. Your thoughts? __
> 
> __  
_*Also, where do turians keep their ears? Anyone know?*  
*I will be going to a weekly schedule for updating after this chapter too.*_  



	3. Scientist Salarian

“Let me put it to you this way, Commander,” Dr. Chakwas said, clearly exasperated that she couldn't get Jayne to leave her sleeping patient long enough to eat, much less go about her other duties. “If you bring back Professor Solus, he and I can start working on an implant for Vakarian's hearing loss.”

“That's blackmail,” Jayne said, eyes narrowed.

Chakwas smiled. “Ahh, but is it effective blackmail?”

Jayne laughed. “All right, fine. I'll go get you a salarian professor. I hope he's worth it.”

“From what I've heard about him, he is. You ought to like him, Commander. He's former STG, you know.”

“Yes, I know.” She gave a final look over to Garrus, who was still sleeping heavily sedated by the ruthless doctor, and sighed. “If he wakes, you call me.”

“I'll take that under advisement, Commander.”

***

“Hmm, don't recognize you from the area. Too well armed to be refugees. No mercenary uniform. Quarantine still in effect. Here for something else. Vorcha? Crew to clean them out? Unlikely. Vorcha a symptom, not a cause. The plague? Investigating possible use as bio-weapon? No, too many weapons. Not enough data equipment. Soldiers, not scientists. Hired gun, maybe? Looking for someone? Yes! But who? Someone important. Valuable. Someone with secrets. Someone like me...”

“Relax. I'm Commander Shepard and I am here to find you. I need your help.” She'd been remarkably entertained by the fast paced mouth on the salarian, even when he'd passed his omni-tool over her. She had no doubt a mind like his had taken note of all her modifications but bypassed them in exchange for finishing his quicksilver thoughts.

“No, too busy. Clinic understaffed. Plague spreading too fast. Who sent you?”

She gritted her teeth. “Cerberus. You've heard of them, I presume?”

His tone was dry as he answered, “Crossed paths on occasion. Thought they only worked with humans. Why request salarian aid?”

“I...” Where to start? “I have an injured...turian on my ship.”

“Hesitation. Turian is important to you. Why? What injuries? How severe?”

“We would also like your input in finding the Collectors,” she went on, ignoring his questions for the moment while Miranda and Jacob were there.

For the first time since they'd walked into the clinic, he was silent for the space of a few breaths. He gave her an assessing look, and an almost imperceptible glance between her two very human, very _Cerberus_ companions. Oh yes, he was a sharp tack.

“Collectors,” he said finally. “Interesting. Plague hitting these slums is engineered. Collectors one of the few groups with technology to design it. Our goals may be similar.” He turned away to open a locked storage case. “But, must stop plague first. Already have a cure. Need to distribute it at environmental control center. Vorcha guarding it.” His tone dropped perceptibly. “Need to kill them.”

“I'll deal with the vorcha,” she sighed. She shook her head, wondering why the universe felt the need to constantly barrage her with endless tasks. Just once she'd love to have someone say they were going to come along, no questions asked.

_You did, once._

_ Or twice, now that I think about it. Where is Wrex anyway?_

***

A manufactured plague that affected every race but humans, really? There was a cosmic joke being told, but she wasn't in on the punchline. Unless the punchline was the total annihilation of all living things, because the vorcha confirmed the suspicion that the Collectors were behind the plague, just as they were behind the attacks on human settlements.

She managed to find Mordin's lost assistant, haplessly trying to bargain with batarians. Jayne could have told him it was pointless. But then again, she never denied that she was biased when it came to batarians.

She fought her way through the vorcha to the environmental control center, turning the air back on and feeding Mordin's cure into the system. After that it was easy. Mordin turned over his clinic to his assistant and packed up his things. Time to get moving again.

***

“Welcome to the Normandy, Professor,” Jacob said as the pair entered the briefing and conference room on the command level. “It's an honor to have you on board.”

“Yes. Very exciting. Cerberus working with aliens. Unexpected. The Illusive Man must be branching out. Not so human-centric, perhaps?”

“Don't kid yourself,” Jayne said before Miranda could start any of her usual propaganda. “Humans still come first with the Illusive Man. But this mission is too big for Cerberus to handle alone. Besides...” she caught Miranda's knowing glare from the corner of her eye, “I need your expertise on that other matter.”

“The Collectors are abducting human colonists out on the fringes of Terminus Space,” Jacob put in before they could get sidetracked.

“Hmm, not simple abductions. Wouldn't need me for that.”

“You're right,” Jayne said. “The colonies are in reasonably good shape, save that every man, woman and child is missing. No bodies, no property damage. But we were able to collect samples from the last one. We'd like you to analyze them and figure out how they're doing this.”

“Of course, analyze the samples. I'll need a lab.”

Jayne smiled. She was going to like this salarian indeed. “We already have one waiting for you.”

“There is a fully equipped lab on the combat deck, Professor Solus,” EDI said presently, making Mordin jump and look around for her voice. “If you find anything lacking, please place a requisition order.”

“Who's that? Pilot? No, synthesized voice. Simulated emotional inflections. Could it be...no. Maybe.” He stopped and looked at Jayne. “Is that an AI?”

“This ship is equipped with one, yes.”

“An AI on board. Non-human crew members. Cerberus more desperate than I thought.”

She watched, suppressing a laugh, as both Jacob and Miranda stiffened with irritation at the critical appraisal. “That will be all,” she said, waving them out. Mordin waited with more patience than she'd seen yet from him as they left the room. “Yes, they're pretty desperate. You've scanned me, you know what's in me.”

“Too rude. Wasn't going to ask.”

“Dr. Chakwas can fill you in. She's our ship's doctor,” she said before he could ask. “About that non-human crew. The turian who needs your attention is Archangel.”

“Garrus Vakarian. C-Sec detective, short term crew member of the Normandy SR-1. Rumored liaison with the acting Commander.” He gave her a look and it was like he'd put together a complex 3D puzzle in his head right before her eyes. He nodded briefly before continuing his recitation. “Disappeared nearly two years ago and resurfaced on Omega as Archangel. Yes,” he waved a hand at her. “I know him. Who do you think treats all the criminals and all the vigilantes here? What happened?”

“He was injured on the attack on his base. Gunship rocket. Took out a mandible, parts of his facial plates and an eardrum.” She found herself answering him in the same staccato cadence and smiled with him when he noticed. “It's the ear that needs your input. Dr. Chakwas was able to correct the majority of his injuries, but she's never had to build a hearing implant for a turian before.”

“Neither have I, for that matter. Still...challenging. Yes. Will make it a priority, Commander Shepard. Can run simultaneous with sample analysis.” He paused before leaving the conference room. “Assume that is what you wish?”

“Yes,” she said, her voice suddenly small. “Yes it is.”

“Rumors true?”

“Yes, Professor. The rumors were true.”

He looked as if he was considering something. “Forgive impertinence if unwarranted, but I hope you have had proper dextro amino allergy testing and are aware of chafing prevention and remedies?”

She fought hard not to laugh again. Truly, in just a few hours his presence had lightened her mood immeasurably. “I have no dextro allergies, and yes, we work around the chafing issue. Well, we did in the past. Doesn't matter now...” _Not with artificial legs_, she finished to herself. Mordin nodded, seeming to understand what she was saying and what she wasn't.

“Very good, Commander. Highly stressful life you lead. Sex good for relieving it. Turians known for...stamina. Prefer cell reproduction myself. Simpler. Much less alcohol and mood music required.”

She hummed a noise, at a loss for words. It was that or stammer and blush like a schoolgirl. She'd never had any issues with being frank about enjoying sex, but there was something uncanny in the eyes of this old salarian that made her feel 18 again. She had no doubt that a lesser individual would feel like he was leading them on for his own personal amusement.

“Perhaps I should meet with ship's doctor first, assess her patient. Reacquaint myself with Archangel as well. Will inform you of any relevant data, Commander. Please, just Mordin.”

And on that note, he left the room, leaving her standing there utterly bemused. His forthright manner and eagerness to get the job done boded well for their working relationship. She still missed Wrex, but caught herself thinking that perhaps a former STG professor could help fill the spot nicely.


	4. Rebel, Rebel

_2183_

Jayne watched Garrus packing up his tools. She was sitting on the near wheel well of the new Mako, swinging her feet like a child. The vehicle they'd taken through the Conduit had been completely destroyed during the fighting, and the Alliance had had to requisition a new one for the ship. It was modified with a gyroscopic roll cage, so no one could really complain about her driving anymore. But that only meant it didn't feel the same as they hunted down the remaining geth troops that hadn't died with Sovereign.

Just as the Normandy wouldn't feel the same without Garrus.

“Do you really have to go back?”

“Executor Pallin has been patient, Jayne. But he needs me, now more than ever. The Citadel is a wreck and he's up to his mandibles in backlogged files.”

“I suppose that's true. I've gotten so used to thinking of you as part of my crew. And now Tali is leaving too.”

“She can't stay on her Pilgrimage forever, you know.” He aimed a look at her through his visor and she grinned.

“Yeah, I know. And those geth data _are_ a highly suitable gift for the Migrant Fleet. I just hope they use it wisely.”

“Me too. Hey, at least you won't have to bug the req officer for dextro supplies anymore.” She made a face at him and he laughed. He finished stuffing his carry-all and zipped it shut. “All right, that's all of that.”

“What's left in the cabin?”

“Odds and ends. Some datapads, I think. A tunic I think I might just forget to take back with me.” He gave her another look and she smiled. Garrus took the idea of the boyfriend sweater to a whole new level. He stood in front of her at the wheel well, his face below hers for a change. “Hey, you'll have shore leave soon, and we'll hit the Wards up right.”

“Or not,” she whispered, sliding into his willing embrace to press her forehead to his. “I'll miss you, babe. I've gotten used to waking up next to a turian.”

“You'll have the mountain of pillows to yourself, though. Ought to make up for it.”

“Never in a million years...” She kissed him, and felt his arms go tight around her as he returned it. He'd gotten so very good at kissing her.

“Knock it off, you two,” Wrex shouted across the bay, but there was too much laughter in it for them to even stop. Instead, Garrus turned her sideways and gave her a dip, allowing the krogan a good view as he deepened the kiss. “Disgusting,” Wrex muttered.

“You're just jealous,” Ashley said, a surprising amount of warmth in her voice. Her xenophobia had lessened considerably since fighting alongside the alien crew throughout their pursuit of Saren. Jayne had always been hopeful that working with non-humans would broaden Ash's horizons a bit. It was a big galaxy after all, and they were just one species in it.

“That mean you wanna show'em how it's done, Williams?” Wrex grinned, his shark's teeth gleaming in the bay lights.

“I wouldn't go that far,” the Gunnery Chief retorted. Their banter was enough to break Garrus and Jayne apart, laughing.

“All right, gang. Everyone up to the mess so we can have a proper send off for our resident turian.”

***

She and Jacob were discussing their next move – whether to head to the Citadel as requested or to remain on Omega a bit longer, see if the other asset on the Illusive Man's list was still there – when the door to the conference room cycled opened.

“Garrus!” Jayne exclaimed, surprised Chakwas had let him leave the medbay after the aural implant surgery. She felt like every time she'd seen him in the last few days, he'd either been too knocked out or in too much pain to even know she was there. She knew turian stamina was a remarkable thing, but this was stretching it to its limits.

“Tough son of a bitch,” Jacob muttered under his breath. “Didn't think he'd be up yet.”

“Nobody would give me a mirror,” Garrus said jauntily. “How bad is it?”

“Oh, babe...” She shook her head. He would never be done surprising her; she knew he had to still be in considerable pain. “Ya know, you slap some face paint on it, no one will even notice.”

He laughed for a moment before cringing. “Ugh, don't make me laugh, dammit, my face is barely holding together as it is.” He sauntered further into the room, until there was barely any space between them. Whatever angry fire had been burning in him before her arrival on Omega seemed to have dissipated. At least enough that no one who didn't know him well could see it. His walk was so very nearly like the one she remembered, slightly cocky, slightly deferential, all turian. “Some women find facial scars attractive,” he rumbled, letting his subvocals color his words. “Mind you, most of those women are krogan.”

Jacob saluted her – strange that he still felt the need – and left the room abruptly. She shook her head again. She couldn't quite get a bead on that one. She focused back on Garrus and now that they were alone, she let down her guard.

“Jesus, Garrus. Your face is a mess. How are you feeling?”

“I'll live. Besides, you're one to talk.” He traced her scars again, lightly, so lightly she barely felt his talons. “You want to tell me about it now?”

“There's not much to tell,” she whispered. “I was spaced when the Normandy blew up, and I died.”

“Obviously there's more to it than that.”

She nodded. “My body...well, what was left of it anyway, landed on the planet. Between burning up on entry and then a massive case of hardsuit failure in the cold, both arms and legs were beyond saving. And every major organ system either ruptured or was frozen too. At some point, Cerberus got a hold of my....” She shuddered delicately. “Jacob said it wasn't pretty.”

“Cerberus,” he growled. “I'm worried about that, Jayne. I've heard bad things. Worse than anything we found trailing them for Kahoku.”

“I'm sure. I mean, I'm walking proof of the tech they have.” She made a face. “I'm glad you're here. If I'm walking into hell, I want someone I can trust at my side.”

“You realize that plan has me walking into hell too.”

“Just like old times.”

“Uh huh. I'm fit for duty whenever you need me. I'll settle in and see what I can do about the forward battery. You know me and tinkering.”

“I do.” He took her hands in his, examining them, trying to see how well the prosthetics mimicked flesh. Even she had to admit it was damned good. She wouldn't know if she couldn't feel the edges of the incisions, like itches she could never reach. “You know, you promised to tell me how you got yourself in a position to have half your face blown off.”

He pressed his forehead to hers, lingering until they both relaxed. Then took a step back, a single talon rubbing against the side of his visor. “I did, didn't I? Feels...feels too soon, if you don't mind. I need some distance from it.”

“I don't mind, Garrus. Just...you know where to find me, when you're ready? For anything.”

“Planning to have Cerberus throw us both out an airlock for fraternizing?” He made a tutting sound she didn't know turians could make. “I know where to find you, Jayne. But I think we need to be careful.”

“Not too careful, I hope. This isn't the Alliance.”

He flared his good mandible at her. “No, not too careful. Just...careful. I'm not aiming to have to sleep with my rifle under my pillow in case some of these Cerberus fools take it into their heads that I'd be better off dead.”

“There's an easy cure for that, you know.”

“I think that would be unwise for the moment.” He smiled to take the sting from his words. “No, it's not the Alliance. But you're in a tough position here, Jayne, don't think I don't know it. Me moving into your cabin would not sit well with some of these people, and you need their loyalty. At least for now.”

“I understand. Once we get more crew on board that are mine, it will be safer. Well, for my peace of mind anyway.” She placed a chaste kiss against the good side of his mouthplate. “And besides, I know where to find you too.”

He nodded, gave her another half smile and left her in the conference room.

***

She dreamed that night, alone in her cabin. The blue glow from the empty fish tanks suffused the large room with light that was just enough to blank out the glass portal above her head. She woke gasping for air, feeling like she was drowning in oil, slick, viscous and inescapable. She knew she knew that feeling, but couldn't precisely remember why.

“_You are a worthy foe for the Reapers_,” the voice had said in her dream. She recognized it, the voice in the void. She remembered so little from her time being dead. She didn't know what was her imagination and what was real.

She got out of the bed and stumbled in the semi-dark to her desk, plunking down in the chair and staring blankly at her personal console. She had never been an overly religious person, even in her youth before the Mindoir raid. She had never thought about life after death, or what it meant for her immortal soul or whatever to be resurrected. She had no doubt that she had truly died over Alchera. She didn't really want to know what Cerberus had done to bring her back from that. The physical evidence was bad enough.

She couldn't say she wasn't happy to be alive – there was work to be done, after all – but she didn't know if that was same thing as being grateful for it. They'd violated and manipulated her remains to bring her back. She would have probably preferred to be a clone with a programmed memory, if it came down to it. She might not have felt so conflicted. So..._artificial_.

“Go back to sleep, Jayney,” she muttered to herself, pushing herself out of the chair and going back to bed. She resolutely didn't look at the wide window above her head – at least they were still docked and the open sky was blocked by Omega's asteroid interior – and closed her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, please, PLEASE tell me some of you have David Bowie running through your heads right now? I've been sitting on this chapter title for the majority of the year, before I even finished writing Flash. It was just that funny and...powerful.


	5. I Got No Strings On Me

It was snowing on Alchera, light fluffy stuff that hung in the thin air more than fell. The atmosphere was so minimal that she barely heard her feet crunching in the snow, but she could feel it through the soles of her weighted boots. There was no sign of where she'd landed in a heap of meat, as Jacob so adroitly put it, but that wasn't surprising after two years. The wreckage was enough to make her pause, horrified. She didn't need to see her semi final resting place on top of it. Still, it made her more fully understand how her body had survived the fall, since there wasn't much friction made possible by her entry. Her limb loss was due more to the cold than any damage done from careening through the atmosphere in the scant gravity.

A gleam caught her eye and she crunched over to it, pulling another set of dog tags free from the ground. She'd stopped reading the names. Jacob had told her that most of the crew had made it off. He didn't tell her that 'most' was an exaggeration. Already she'd found fourteen dog tags from unlucky service members who'd gone down with the ship. Her HUD told her there were more.

The hull was in pieces, scattered across a glacial field for hundreds of meters. Parts she recognized – CIC, sleeping pods, elevator shaft, her cabin. Parts were so torn and twisted, and now covered with ice rime and snow, that they were meaningless hunks of metal and ceramic and scorched fabric. She found the galaxy map, its circuits frayed like old cloth. She found the decontamination airlock and the forward hatch. And there was a bit of the railing where she'd once watched Garrus leaning as she conducted a sweep of suitable planets with the rachni queen.

She found Pressly's datapad, still loaded up with logs from his personal journal. She read the entries, biting back tears at the thought of how she'd vilified him for being xenophobic, when it was obvious from these entries that he'd changed over the long course of their pursuit of Saren.

“You deserved better from me,” she murmured to the datapad, placing it back in the snow carefully. There was no need to take it with her, most of the data on it were corrupted and lost. She would let it serve as a marker for her former XO, and she saluted it before she walked away.

Joker's pilot seat was intact, although the cockpit that had once surrounded it was not. Emotion overcame her again, thinking of all the times she went up there to cajole him to come down to the galley with everyone else for an evening off as they traveled in FTL between systems. And of that final time, wading through fire and having to break his arm to get him to an escape pod.

A dull gleam caught her eye in the snow, not a dog tag. She clambered up the slippery hill to dig it out. It wasn't until the helmet was in her hands that she recognized it as her own. Her gorge rose in her throat. She hadn't wanted to find this spot, but here it was, unremarkable now except that her helmet was here. Nothing else remained, not even her own dog tags.

“Someone took it off me,” she mused aloud. She stowed the helmet in her pack and got back to her feet, continuing her search.

She found the Mako, caught on a bank of rocks, the front tires frozen solid to the ground. She leaned against the side panel and broke down. Her eyes stung like fury since she couldn't wipe them, and the glass of her helmet fogged up from her chuffing sobs, but she didn't care. No matter how much they'd all hated the six wheeled vehicle, she had good memories of it that were indelibly marked in her mind.

_“Good hunting?” she asked Wrex._

_ “In a manner of speaking. How's the kid?”_

_ Garrus harrumphed, “I'm fine,” still sizzling with afterglow from their solution to keep him warm_.

With a final pat against the hollow shell, she walked away from the Mako and looked over the rest of the wreckage. Six more times she stopped and dug up dog tags. Her HUD told her that was all of them and she tucked them into her suit for safekeeping. She wasn't an Alliance Marine anymore, but she would return them to their families. Everyone deserved closure. Even her.

There was nothing else to see, nothing else to remember. She turned in a circle, seeing the dark contrast of what remained of the Normandy's lettering standing out against the snowy landscape. That was where she'd put the monument Admiral Hackett had managed to send to her out on Omega. There in sight of the name of her beloved ship. The SR-2 was a fine vessel, and she liked some of the new amenities on board, but it wasn't the same. The SR-1 had been her _home_.

Once the monument was in place to her satisfaction, she went back to the shuttle and left the planet where she'd died.

***

“Jayne,” Garrus said in greeting as soon as she stepped into the forward battery where he'd set himself up. “You shouldn't have gone down there alone.”

“It's uninhabited,” she replied, tired and still cold, although she thought that was mostly her mind playing tricks on her. She hadn't been able to face looking up at the window in her cabin as they headed back to Omega, the feeling and memory of being spaced was still too near. So she'd left and come down here in the wee hours of the night cycle.

“That's not what I meant.” He stopped his incessant fiddling with the new Thanix guns and leaned on his console, crossing his arms and staring at her. He wasn't angry, she could see that, but he wasn't happy either. “I would have gone with you.”

“I needed to do it alone, Garrus. I don't think...I don't think I could have handled it with someone else to see.”

“Are you all right?”

“Yeah...I'm okay,” she sighed, sinking down to sit on a crate. “It was very peaceful there, all things considered. The sky was amazing. Too cold for you, though.”

He watched her, but she wasn't doing anything interesting to her mind and she looked away, unable to stand the scrutiny. She wondered what he saw when he looked at her now. She was more nanobots and metal than flesh, her body full of circuitry and servos. Nearly every remaining bone had been reinforced and supported by a framework of alloys. Nearly every organ had been replaced or rebuilt. She was crisscrossed with scars that still glowed from the components within. Twin lines on her shoulders, one on her right hip and one on her left thigh delineated where her tissue ended and her prosthetics began. Chakwas told her they should eventually blend in seamlessly, but for now she couldn't bear to look at herself in a mirror. She didn't know how anyone else could look at her either.

Garrus crossed the distance between, coming to stand directly in front of her. She leaned back to look at him, his face marred and mangled just as surely as she was. “Am I real, Garrus?”

He took her hands in his, crouching down so they were level with each other. He turned her hands over, stroking her palms with his thumb talons. She could feel it, sensory perception as clear and precise as if her hands were genuine, but she couldn't escape that they weren't. If she cut them they would bleed, but the blood wasn't organic. If she burned them they would blister, but the nanobots in her body would repair them faster than any Medi-gel. She felt like a stranger in her own body and she hated it. Tears welled in her eyes.

“Turians believe the body is a shell, nothing more than a sort of vehicle for the spirit.” He shook his head slowly. “It doesn't matter what it looks like, or what it's capable of. It's the spirit that matters.” He lifted his gaze from her hands and wiped her eyes. “The body doesn't matter, Jayne. You are still you, inside this shell. Your spirit remains true. You're real.”

She began to cry in earnest then, tears flowing down her cheeks, her long stifled sobs erupting from her chest until her throat was raw. Garrus scooped her into his arms, cradling her against his keel. He crooned under his breath, not quite a lullaby, but a soothing subvocal purr she'd never heard him make before. And she clung to him, desperate to feel something other than pain.

Eventually she calmed. She felt purged of something nameless that had nevertheless been eating at her. Garrus stood up with her in his arms and moved them to his cot along the wall, laying her down and curling up around her in the cramped space.

“There is an old Earth story,” she said presently, her voice harsh and rough after crying so hard, “of a wooden puppet that becomes a real boy. There's magic and wishes involved, of course, and hardships and trials to prove he's worthy. I never much liked the story as a kid. It smacked too much of hubris.” He chuckled behind her, listening to every word. “Now...now I can't help but feel like _I'm_ the puppet boy.”

“How does it end?”

“Oh, all those fairy tales have happy endings. The boy goes off with his father and they all lived happily ever after.” She fell silent, twining her fingers in his. “I don't know if we'll get that chance.”

“We might.”

She smiled and listened to the sounds of the ship as it traveled, soft clanks from engineering, the near silent rush of air through the ventilation system, the bulkheads groaning to themselves as they moved through the FTL corridor. It was the kind of sound she'd missed when she lived on the Citadel. And her old cabin on the SR-1 had been too far from the engines to carry much of it. She nestled into Garrus's arms and felt her eyes grow heavy. She placed her free hand against the wall of the hull, feeling the mild vibration of the ship around her.

She understood now what Tali had meant, so long ago. There was something comforting about being cocooned in the ship, hurtling like a rock through space. Something _safe, _even though she was fully aware that it wasn't. She knew her urgency to upgrade everything she could on the SR-2 was against the persistent fear in the back of her mind of reliving the destruction of the SR-1.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime, darling. Go to sleep now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly? I love that you go to Alchera alone. No squad, no one else yammering in your ear. There's a gravitas to the mission that I think is conveyed very eloquently by the solitude. I wrote this chapter in a sitting, have barely edited it in the time since. It came out exactly how I wanted it to. And the allusion to Pinocchio came on so strong, and all of a sudden, as I was writing. It feels very much like what a struggling Shepard would be feeling like at this point in her recovery. Not sure if that makes Garrus the Blue Fairy or Jiminy Cricket, but hey...who needs to overthink it _that_ much?__
> 
> _  
_Thoughts? Opinions? Let me know how Alchera hit your feels._  
_


	6. The Cost of Doing Business

Zaeed Massani was everything she expected from a middle aged merc. Grizzled, scarred and with a black sense of humor. He had nearly as many replacement parts as she did, although considerably more tattoos. He made himself at home on the Engineering level and was frank and observant to a degree she heartily appreciated. He had no love for Cerberus either. She knew it probably wouldn't matter in the long run, but having someone else who was as wary of their 'employer' as she was made her breathe easier.

“How did it feel being dead?” he asked her bluntly, as she visited him after delivering the parts Gabby and Kenneth needed.

“I dunno,” she replied with a shrug. “I wasn't there for most of it.”

That got a chuckle as he watched her look over the possessions he'd flung hither and yon all over the spot he'd claimed. There was a broken rifle – dearly missed, if his story was anything to go by – the helmet of a dead krogan battlemaster, and a model ship she only knew from her history classes.

“So...you and Archangel...”

“What about me and Archangel?” She leaned against the wall opposite him and crossed her arms in a likewise fashion. She was curious to hear what a fellow Cerberus hater had to say about her relationship with a turian. Or for that matter, what anyone had told him about it.

“I hear things,” he said, confirming it was a topic of conversation. “Rumor is you go way back, pre-geth.” _An interesting way to put it in a timeline_, she mused.

“That's true. I met Garrus when I was just a lowly Alliance Marine, and he was a C-Sec officer.”

“Got a thing for paint, have ya?”

“Only his.”

He cracked half a grin and nodded as if that made perfect sense. And it probably did, for someone who'd been around as long as he had. One found comfort in the strangest places, she knew that. Evidently he did too. “I hear you weren't ever just a 'lowly Marine', Commander.”

She shrugged. Her past history – or notoriety – on Mindoir and Akuze didn't seem to count for much now. Not after Sovereign. “I like being alive.”

“Don't we all. So, where we off to then?”

“The Citadel. And after that, we'll take care of that loose end for you.”

“'Preciate it.” He pushed away from his lazy slouch and looked her in the eye. “If you don't mind me sayin' so, you're gonna need a bigger crew at your back than these Cerberus idiots. Hope you have some people in mind.”

“I do. Just need to build up some resources of my own before we collect them.”

“That's wise. Your Illusive Man must be mighty keen on forgiveness, given how many of his operatives I've killed. I never ask where the money comes from, mind, but I like knowin' it isn't all from one source, if you know what I mean.”

“Just so,” she said crisply. “Once I have what I need, I'll find a way to get rid of any...entanglements.”

“The Illusive Man may be paying the bills, but I'm glad you're the one calling the shots, Commander Shepard.” She smiled and left him to his own devices, satisfied to know they were on the same page.

***

The skycar dropped them off at C-Sec's new headquarters in Zakera Ward. Garrus stepped out and shared a glance with her that was pained. There were many memories for them here, some good, some bad. And some never to be relived, since now their old apartments were gone. Bulldozed to make room for some new Presidium office building.

“Never thought I'd be back here,” he murmured for her ears alone. Zaeed stood back, either watching them interact or keeping an eye out since some of the looks they'd gotten seemed...less than friendly. “Same old C-Sec, corrupt and useless.”

“Hey, we don't know that. Things have probably changed a lot.”

He gave her a speaking look. “I'm sure they have, just not in the direction you're hoping for. Humans are only grudgingly accepted on the Council, even after you managed to save it. Security had already gotten tight around here before I left. Can't imagine what it's like now.”

“Guess we should find out.”

The Ward doors cycled open for them, but the security checkpoint did not. A familiar yellow marked face looked out at her from behind a console and she smiled.

“Commander Shepard, forgive me. But the computer seems to think you're...uh...dead.”

“Theis Irtaka. Good to see you made it safely through the attack.” She offered her arm in a turian style greeting and smiled ruefully. “And I _was_ listed as Missing in Action, Presumed Dead.”

“Ahh, well...” He fiddled with the controls. “Go see Bailey, he'll clear it up, I'm sure.”

His subvocals warned her and she stopped before going into the HQ. “Everything all right, Theis?”

“Sure, Commander. Everything's fine.” His eyes roved over the lounging officers and security details. She nodded, catching his drift. They were mostly human, and didn't appear to like her talking with a turian as if they were old friends. Didn't matter that they were, more or less.

“Spirits, humans are awful sometimes,” she muttered, just loud enough for him to hear, deliberately phrasing it in a way she knew his translator would understand. His mandibles flared wide, a broad smile that most humans probably didn't know how to read. But she did.

“Good to have you back, Shepard,” he said in parting.

“Good to be back.” She leaned in to whisper to him. “And you're still a peach.”

He waved her off with a good-natured grin and a flush rising up the back of his neck. Beside her, Garrus chuckled. “You're a shameless flirt, Jayne.”

“But I'm cute,” she simpered, making him laugh harder. Zaeed watched silently, his face unreadable at this display of cross species familiarity.

It _wasn't_ good to see how Bailey was willing to fraudulently put her back in the system as alive, even if it saved a ton of red tape, or how casually his officers were talking about beating a suspect. Where was Executor Pallin? Where was the order that had once existed in this place? But she didn't say anything, just got her clearance and left. She had other problems to deal with than bureaucratic nonsense. And it wasn't like C-Sec had _ever_ been a bastion of justice and respect. Even Garrus had admitted to forcefully questioning suspects at one time or another.

Then she reached an Avina and realized just how much the truth had been suppressed about Sovereign's attack. The bureaucratic nonsense just kept piling itself higher and higher, it seemed.

“The Council lied,” Zaeed said. “Makes sense, really. They'd have a panic on their hands if the truth was known to the public.”

“Doesn't make it right,” she said as they made their way to another skycar to take them to Anderson. “How can they deny it? They had the remains.”

“A fair amount disappeared before it could be cataloged,” Garrus said. “The rest was filed away and hidden. To my knowledge, no public statement was ever made other than 'rogue Spectre, allied with geth, attacked the Citadel, stopped by first human Spectre'. At least they got your name right in the vids.”

“What bullshit,” she spat.

“At least you know what you're walking into now.” He eyed her through his visor as the skycar took them away from Zakera to the Presidium.

***

The human Embassy looked the same. The view of the Presidium Gardens was the same. And Uncle David looked the same, although tired and worn out. They hugged tight, years of worry sliding away from him as he got a good look at her. Of course, she knew it was replaced with new worry as he saw her scars.

“Don't think about it,” she said.

“Commander, it's good to see you are alive and well,” Councilor Tevos said through her holographic image. Jayne hadn't even realized they were there, she had been so intent on Anderson.

“Thank you, Councilor.”

“The company you're keeping is...troubling, however,” Councilor Valern said. Jayne tilted her head in agreement.

“Beggars can't be choosers,” she said. “I am well aware that the Council cannot offer me any aid in stopping these attacks on human colonies.”

“I should say not,” Councilor Sparatus snapped. “Your race knew the risks of settling the Attican Traverse.”

She held up her hand. “I'm not arguing. But...as I said, beggars can't be choosers. Cerberus is the only one doing anything about it.”

“We still cannot condone any association with such a...shall we say, _controversial_ group.” Tevos looked stern, although her body language gave her away. The Council was nervous now that she was back from the dead. She was a famous woman in her own right, even before taking into account that she was the first human Spectre. She could make a lot of noise if she chose to. They all knew it.

“I'm not asking you to,” she replied. “I know you don't believe me about the Reapers, that you would prefer to think that Saren acted alone in his alliance to the geth, and I even understand why. A mass panic is never good for business.” She waited as they shifted on their feet, visible in the holographic display. It was a tacit acknowledgment that they knew she was on to them. “Be that as it may, I'm not going to stop fighting against them.”

“Are you still carrying on with this delusion, Shepard?” Sparatus asked snidely. She raised a brow at him and stared him down, willing him to feel her abrupt anger through the hologram.

“My 'delusion', as you call it, still managed to save this station. Not to mention your own lives.”

“The Commander is correct,” Tevos interjected before Sparatus could speak. “And for that we owe you many thanks. It is with this idea that we are willing to reinstate your Spectre status...although we cannot extend you aid or resources. You must understand, you are the only one who spoke with the VI on Ilos. You are the only one who claims to have knowledge of these Reapers now that Saren is gone.”

“Didn't anyone else go out to Ilos?” she asked, surprised. She looked over to Uncle David, who shook his head.

“The VI was no longer functioning when our teams arrived,” Valern said. “All we have is your word. You must admit, it is flimsy evidence.”

“What about Sovereign's remains?”

“There is no indication that any of the tech within the ship was not of purely geth origin,” Sparatus said. It was hard to read his body language through the hologram, but Jayne thought perhaps he was trying too hard to convince himself of that statement. Oh, the Council knew, all right, they just didn't want to give credence to it. _Ostriches in the sand,_ she thought derisively.

“So...you're putting me out to pasture instead?” she said, restraining a sneer with effort. She wondered if the idiom would translate to any of them. Valern didn't react, and Sparatus was too belligerent to show any sign he understood it, but Tevos had the grace to look abashed.

“It isn't that, Commander. We just...we cannot be seen to forgive your involvement with a known terrorist agency. Nor can we wholeheartedly agree to your claims without proof.”

Jayne frowned and was about to speak when Udina came in, already frothing at the mouth at her presence. The Councilors signed off, unwilling perhaps to get into a squabble among the humans. She couldn't really say she blamed them; she would have happily avoided seeing Udina too. It was frustrating to her that he'd been selected as human Councilor, but then again, money always did do the talking in human politics.

“What are _you_ doing here, Shepard?” he demanded.

“Relax, Udina, I'm just leaving. The Council reinstated my Spectre status, at least on paper. And I wanted to catch up with Anderson.”

He fumed. “The rest of the Council has no right to make decisions without my input.”

“I suggest you take it up with them.” She turned her back on him and hugged Uncle David again. “I'll try to keep in touch. Don't worry so much about me. I'll be fine, I have Garrus on my six.”

“Good, keep him there. I still believe you, Jayney,” he said softly. “As nightmarish as it all is. You'll always make me proud, little girl.”

She kissed his cheek and stalked past Udina, who was still standing where he'd stopped, sputtering and complaining. She didn't even pay attention to it as she left the Embassy.

“That went well,” Garrus said dryly. Zaeed gave an undignified snort.

“It doesn't pay to burn bridges, no matter how weak they are.” Part of her wanted to linger, to see what other changes there were to see on the station she'd once called home, but the greater part of her just wanted to keep moving. “C'mon, we've got places to be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the sake of imparting some human/alien tension that I think would still be there, the Citadel scene is a mix of both saving the Council and letting them die. In case anyone was curious.
> 
> Also, I just had to bring back Theis. He got so little 'screen time' in Flash, and I loved him so much even from the tiny appearance he made, I just had to have him survive. Don't mind me, just being self-indulgent over here.


	7. Fight or Flight**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here be NSFW. At last.

Another dream.

Another gasping breath that woke her in the blue dimness of her cabin. At least she had fish now, lazily swimming around in the huge tanks.

The stars shifted slowly in the skylight, streaks of the protective barrier of the SR-2 between her and them as they traveled through space. She shivered, remembering all too clearly what it was like being in them and among them, cold, airless and terrified. Her heart raced, lodged in her throat like a stone.

“_You are separated from your body, Shepard_,” the voice said in her memory, distant and emotionless. “_Should you regain that connection, you will leave this place_.”

She shuddered, the dream of the voice and the barren black void dissipating as she woke fully. Her bed was empty save for her, and she didn't like that any better than having bloodcurdling memories of her time while dead.

She checked the chronometer of her omni-tool and saw that it was halfway through the night cycle of the ship. She wondered if Garrus was still up. So far he hadn't taken up her invitations to sleep here. She knew why, but she didn't really care if the Cerberus crew had anything to say about it. He claimed nothing had changed between them, but held himself at a distance she didn't appreciate. She feared there was more to it than a level of distrust in himself after what happened to his team. She understood being skittish and guarded, but simultaneously felt it was unfair that he felt that way with _her_.

“Ugh, this is ridiculous, Jayney. Go down there and kiss your turian senseless if that's what you want,” she said aloud, breaking the hissing silence of the darkness. She threw back the covers and stalked over to her compact dresser to put something on that was suitable for wandering the ship at night. Something less _Commander_ than her usual onboard uniform, but more than a battered old tee shirt and shorts. She'd asked Hackett to send her an N7 hoodie when he'd shipped her the Alchera monument, and for a moment let her gratitude that he'd complied wash through her as she rubbed the logo with her thumb. It was more than wanting something other than Cerberus all around her; she'd earned that rank with her own sweat and blood. She'd be damned if she'd let death and resurrection take it from her.

She hit the button to feed the fish and left the Loft. The elevator was silent and swift as it descended. The night crew was quiet and focused on their tasks, barely looking up to acknowledge her as she swept through. She stopped at the galley and snagged a couple snacks – both chiralities, in the hopes that Garrus was awake – before she went down to the forward battery.

“You up?” she asked softly as the sliding door of the battery closed her in with the banks of consoles and hefty weapons systems she had installed. Garrus was laying down on his cot, but it was obvious he was awake. He sat up immediately and looked at her, both eyes clear and stark on his face. She looked for it, and found his visor on the floor near his feet. “I can count on one hand the number of times I've seen you without that,” she said conversationally as he reached for it. “Awake, anyways.”

“I was just settling down,” he replied, fixing it to his head and adjusting it around his bandages. She felt oddly awkward, as if she'd caught him doing something compromising or embarrassing. “Did you need something?”

“Company, mostly.” She handed him the dextro protein bar and leaned on her hip against a stack of crates. She rolled her levo snack in her hands, feeling the crinkle of the wrapping and the hardness of the bar inside it.

“What's on your mind, Jayne?”

“Are we all right?” she answered after a moment. She wasn't looking at him, but knew he stood when his shadow fell across her. He took the food from her hands and placed it on the crates, then tilted her chin up to meet his gaze.

“We're fine,” he said.

“Then why...?”

“You need time, Jayne. Two years is a long time to be apart. And we've both been through hell. I want you to be sure this is still...”

She didn't really know what she intended until she'd wrapped her arm around his neck cowl and drew his mouth to hers. She didn't know if he'd respond or push her away. But he crushed her to him, holding her tight enough that she couldn't breathe. Far from sparking any memory of airlessness in her, she reveled in it. His talons were bare, and she could feel them gripping the material of her hoodie, could feel the points of them through it.

Her stomach had felt tightly coiled, like there was stone inside her shifting with every movement, heavy and sickening. As he returned her kiss it softened, dissolved into her until she felt warmth and anticipation reside there instead. It wasn't the butterflies of initial attraction, but the solid presence of familiarity. She drew back from the kiss and let their foreheads touch, mindful that his mouthplate was still healing.

“I _need_ you, Garrus. I _want_ you, always, always...”

His mandibles flared and his arms tightened around her again, until she was pressed flush against him from shoulder to hip. She felt her spine relax, molding itself to the shape of him. “Not a moment goes by that I don't want you, Jayne,” he whispered. “Not a single moment.”

“Turian men don't do the choosing,” she recited from memory, recalling their first night together, so long ago. It put things into place, remembering that facet of turian culture. She tipped her head back to look him in the eye. “But you're supposed to do the chasing,” she teased with a sly grin.

He grinned back and looked around the battery. “Not much room in here to chase you, Jayne.”

“I suppose we could always race around Engineering,” she said.

“I would remind the Commander that the Engineering level is occupied,” EDI broke in, startling them both and making them jump apart. The AI's voice held no sign of chastisement or mockery, but Shepard still glared at the ceiling.

“EDI, while I thank you for the reminder, I would also like to point out that your opinion was not asked for.”

“Apologies, Commander. I am merely suggesting that if you and Officer Vakarian wish to engage in pursuit behavior, the hangar is empty except for the Kodiak shuttle and some equipment packaging.”

“Thank you, EDI. That will be all,” she managed without laughing.

“Logging you out, Shepard.”

Jayne and Garrus exchanged amused glances and then she took off for the elevator, hearing him follow. He caught up with her, of course, backing her into the lift with his bulk, and barely giving her time to press the button for the hangar level before he crowded her into a corner, his mandibles flared and teeth gleaming. She knew of many people who found turians terrifying, but she never had been one of them. She didn't need to sanitize his descent from a predator species for her own peace of mind. Humans were predators too.

Garrus licked a path along her throat as the elevator dropped them down, intent on having his own way now that he'd been given her enthusiastic permission, but she ducked out from under his arm as the elevator dinged and opened up to the spacious hangar. She laughed at his stunned expression as she raced away on sure feet, her artificial legs finally good for something.

Ducking and weaving through the hangar, she could hear him behind her, his talons clicking on the metallic floor. She led him a merry chase, easily outpacing him for once in her life. She knew turians were a hunting race, famous for swiftness and stamina. There was something thrilling in the pit of her stomach from staying ahead of him. Twice she narrowly escaped his grasp, hearing his subvocals rumble in mock frustration. She laughed, carefree and aloud, hearing it echo in the space.

She leapt across a barrier of empty crates, vaulting onto her feet and taking off once more, hearing him not two steps behind her, easily clearing the barrier himself. The wall was coming up, and she'd have to choose between circling back and evading his arms or kicking off it and sailing over his head. She didn't quite trust her new limbs to carry her with grace, and had nearly decided on her turn angle when his hands landed on her N7 jacket, holding her tight and bringing her to an abrupt halt, his momentum carrying them crashing into the wall. He leaned against her, pinning her wrists with his hands, and she could feel the press of his plates against her backside.

“Enough chasing,” he murmured in her ear, the dual tones making her flush with anticipation. “Now you're caught.”

“And what are you going to do with your prey now that you've caught her?” she asked, breathless from the running and the excitement of having him hold her in place.

“What every predator does. I'm going to eat her,” he answered, his words laced with so much subvocal innuendo that she shuddered the length of her spine and felt the heat blossom between her legs like a spark set to tinder.

He dropped his hands to her hips, sliding around to her front to tug her sweats down, his thumbs catching the band of her underwear too. He pulled her hips backwards, away from the wall so she was bent over, and dropped to his knees behind her. The first touch of his tongue on the back of her thigh made her gasp, and the sound she made as he worked his way to her center was nearly inhuman. She'd forgotten what it was like between them. His tongue pulsed against her before he slid it inside her and she spasmed, the pleasure a sharp spike that nearly cost her the strength to stand.

“Garrus...” she moaned.

He chuckled, his hands holding her up now. She wanted to buck backwards against his face, but the reminder that he had healing injuries stopped her. She wasn't going to kill this mood if it killed _her_. The onslaught of sensation burned through her, making her shamelessly wet and pliant for his tongue and fingers. She'd forgotten too how nimble his widely spaced digits could be as he spread her open with his secondaries while both primary talons swept around and across her exposed clit. With a cry she came on his tongue, and he lapped at her, drawing it out to an intense finish, leaving her on shaky legs.

He stood behind her, as she heaved for air bent against the wall. She heard catches and zippers and waited, knowing he would take her mercilessly now. The pointed head of his cock pressed against her backside before he slid himself lower, fitting himself between her legs to rub against her. He was as ready as she was, but determined to torture her. She did buck and writhe now, his steady hands holding her in position as he lined himself up.

He didn't plunge into her hard, but let himself slide until she was seated fully on his erection. For the space of a few breaths he stayed still, letting her adjust and fit herself to him. It had been so long, but her body remembered how to bend and shift to accommodate his length. With tiny pumping movements he hit the place that always made her see stars and she gasped and cried out, urgently wanting more.

“Spirits, Jayne, I've missed you,” he grunted, sliding his hands around her thighs to support her and lift her completely off the floor. Braced against the wall, full of him, she couldn't reply with words, but she could still clench on him, making him growl like the deadly predator he was. He held her in place and stroked her with long, easy pulls until she was sobbing from it, the concentrated pleasure mounting so high she could barely breathe.

She didn't know how long they stayed that way, couldn't measure time or even think. Suddenly he dropped her down, his knees folding into hers so that they ended up on the floor. She dropped her shoulders, raised her ass and let him ride her hard, the way they both liked it. She imploded around him, squeezing and releasing until he groaned, thrusting so deep it was nearly painful. She felt the burn of his climax inside her, each spasm pumping her full of him. She tipped over the over-sensitized edge and came again with him, going completely blank and boneless as she did.

“That a good enough chase for you?” he panted into her ear.

“Mm hmm,” she replied, her face turned to the cool metal plating of the floor.

***

In the morning, she found a hastily written and rude castigation on her personal terminal from Miranda, and sat in her chair and laughed so hard it woke Garrus. She gave him a fond look and let him go back to sleep. He'd earned it, after all.


	8. You're Lucky I Need You

“You cost me twenty years of my goddamn life!” Zaeed shouted, pointing his weapon at her. She wasn't worried. It was strange how coming back from death had made her fearless. That, and having stared down an angry krogan once. There was nothing remotely intimidating about facing down an angry human after that.

This whole mission had been one problem after another. What should have been a straightforward 'liberate the workers, kill the bad guy' kind of day had been thrown out the airlock as soon as Zaeed started the fire that now raced through the refinery and surrounding area. Jayne had been able to contain much of it, which in turn, of course, allowed Vido to get away. In the distance the shuttle he was escaping on trailed a thin line of smoke behind it. She didn't think it would get very far. She focused back on her erstwhile companion, who was glaring at her, waiting for her to make a move.

“You start treating civilians as disposable, you're no better than the Blue Suns,” she said softly. Anyone who knew her knew that she got very quiet when she was truly angry. Indeed, she saw Garrus step to the side, readying his sidearm just in case things turned ugly. “You put your vendetta ahead of their lives, and that is not acceptable under my command.”

The overheated thermal clip Zaeed had dropped after his wrath induced shootout sparked on the fuel spilled all over the ground. It set off a chain reaction of fire and explosions. Jayne stepped out of the way, seeing the support beam coming. It landed heavily across Zaeed, knocking him down and pinning him beneath it.

“Get this thing off me!” he shouted.

“Give me one good reason to,” she replied. Garrus still stood by, watching them. If he seemed surprised to hear such cold words from her, he didn't show it. Then again, it was hardly his first experience with seeing her temper in action. “You already put me in a position that would either have cost many innocent lives or my personal integrity. You don't get to make those decisions.”

Zaeed grunted, the heavy beam across his leg sliding down toward his knee as he tried to scoot out from under it. “Who put you in goddamn charge?” he snarled.

Jayne knelt down so they were eye to eye. “The Illusive Man did, whether either of us likes it or not. The one paying the bills. And you told me you were glad for that, remember? From now on, you do as I say, or you die here.”

They stared each other down, the flames raging around them and creeping ever closer as the jungle ignited. She could feel the heat of it through her blast shield on her helmet, and wondered how he was able to still sit there, crushed and sweating, without giving in just to save himself.

“You're a strong willed son of a bitch, Zaeed, and a damned good shot. And I need you if we're going to figure out these Collector attacks. But I will not have my authority overridden by personal vengeance.” She stood and hefted the beam, feeling the servos in her elbows creak but hold. “You do it again, I'll shoot you myself.”

“What makes you think I won't just kill _you_ while you sleep?” he harangued, but there wasn't much heat behind it. Jayne threw the beam away and crossed her arms, making no move to help him up.

“C'mon, Zaeed. You're good, but remember who you're dealing with. I polish off mercs as a light snack.” She stood back and watched him struggle to his feet. His leg didn't appear to be broken, but he limped on it. “Now, are we good, or shall I inform the Illusive Man that your services are no longer required?”

“Goddamn, you got a brass pair on you,” he ground out. Then he sighed. “There will be no problem, Commander.”

“Then, let's get out of here. This place is going to fall down around our ears.”

She ignored Garrus's offered hand into the shuttle and took the center seat, daring either of them to sit next to her. Zaeed grabbed a ceiling ring and stood, while Garrus backed off and leaned against the hull, keeping an eye on both of them. They were silent as they flew back to the SR-2.

***

“How are Zaeed's injuries?” Jayne asked Chakwas later, as they made their way back towards the Citadel. Mining was all well and good, but it didn't put supplies in Gardner's mess hall.

“He'll be fine, Commander,” Chakwas said. “The femur isn't broken, although that quadricep will be bruised for the foreseeable future. His jaw is fine too. You didn't break it, just caused a hairline fracture.” She gave Jayne an assessing look. “I'm assuming you hit him. There is no way that impact was made with anything less than krogan strength.”

“Hmm,” Jayne said, rather noncommittally, flexing her fingers. They weren't even sore. She _had_ hit Zaeed, just after he'd set the refinery ablaze. She'd forgotten in the heat of the fight. She needed to watch her temper a little closer, apparently. “Is he still angry?”

“A bit,” Chakwas said with a brittle laugh, underplaying just how much.

“Sorry,” she replied, leaning on the doctor's desk. “I'm angry too. He has such potential if he can get his head in the game.”

Chakwas gave her another look, one that had Jayne feeling like the good doctor was about to change the subject. “How are _you_ feeling? Your hardsuit took some substantial hits.”

“I'm fine.” She rolled her shoulders, stretching her torso and limbering her arms. “Nothing to worry about.”

“I know you wanted to wait until you had time to use the surgical correction for your scars...”

“I did. I'll let you know when I have the time.”

“Commander, this trip back to the Citadel...are you sure you don't want to do it now?”

“As much as I hate it, having these scars still showing while I mingle with the propaganda fed masses is actually a good thing. People don't doubt me as much.”

“I understand. Bearing visible signs of trauma and injury goes a long way to making people believe you were...incapacitated, rather than hiding.”

Jayne grunted something that could have been an agreement. She didn't like it, but she could stand it for one more trip. After that, she could let Chakwas finish her healing, and the scars would be gone. She wasn't quite sure how she felt about it. She hated them, there was no doubt, but having them invisible wasn't going to change the fact that her body was full of tech. It wasn't going to redeem her self image or esteem. She flexed her fingers again.

“What does Garrus think?” Chakwas asked, intuitively understanding that Jayne was wrestling with her decision over it.

“He's a turian about it. The vessel doesn't matter, only the person within it.” She made a face, comfortable enough with her doctor to allow it. Chakwas gave her a gentle smile.

“All in good time, then. I'll let you get back to work, Commander.”

***

“Thank you, Jayne,” Garrus said over dinner in her cabin a few days later. She looked up from her datapad and looked over the remains on his plate. She smiled.

“No problem, babe. Can't have you starving on my ship. It's bad for morale.”

“Gardner seemed pretty happy with what you brought back too.”

“He is.” She shoveled more of the excellent gumbo her mess sergeant had made into her mouth. Garrus shook his head, looking at her strangely. “What?”

“I'm a bad influence. Look at you, gobbling like a turian.”

“You can take the girl out of the Marines...”

He flared his mandibles in a grin. There must be a similar saying among turians for his translator to make sense of the idiom. “Where are we headed now?”

“Osun. There's apparently an asset to pick up from the prison ship Purgatory.”

“Mercs and convicts, eh? The Illusive Man has curious taste.”

“Every member of this crew that he's had me find has had some brush with the wrong side of the moral high ground. Or the law...or both. You, Zaeed, Mordin and his tinkering with the genophage, now this criminal. Makes me wonder what the pattern is, because you can be damned sure there is one.”

“We have nothing left to lose, perhaps.”

“Perhaps. I keep being told this mission against the Collectors is a suicide one. I've come back from worse odds.” She shrugged. Death held no power over her now. Stopping the Collectors and fighting off the Reaper invasion were bigger than her personal life and death struggle. It was the life and death of the whole galaxy that was at stake. She wasn't blindly optimistic that her entire crew would agree with that assessment, but she hoped she could rally _some_ allies to her side that were willing to put their lives on the line for a greater cause than their own. Zaeed's push to gain his own vengeance had soured that hope. At least she knew Garrus was with her to the end.

“What's on your mind, Jayne?”

“Just feeling very small against an opponent with literally billions of years of knowledge on its side. It's overwhelming. Even just the plan to deal with the Collectors. We don't even know what the connection is between them and the Reapers, but we still have to stop them. How much am I supposed to give of myself to make sure that happens?”

“One step at a time. That's all you can do.” He reached across the coffee table and took her hand in his. She squeezed his fingers with her own. “You know I'm with you.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“C'mere,” he tugged her across the space to curl up with him on the couch. She nestled into his side and let him stroke her hair, imagining him watching the curls wrap around his talons. She knew her hair fascinated him. “We'll get through this, you and I.”

“I hope so.”

“We will.” She tipped back her head and let him kiss her. It didn't linger, but it was enough to make her feel better. “So, tell me why they call this the 'Loft'.”

“I think because it's on the highest deck. It's lofty,” she quipped. He shook his head at her whimsy and tugged her to stand.

“I'll show you lofty,” he promised, pulling her towards the bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, I so wanted to like Zaeed. I'd seen so much of him in video clips and whatnot. And then he went off half cocked and I had to make a split second decision without knowing ahead of time how it would play out. I play a very Paragon Shepard. She absolutely would not choose a crew member she barely knew over the lives of innocents. It was very disheartening. That said...the next squadmate picked up (to be introduced in the next chapter) totally made up for it.
> 
> Let me know your thoughts. Comments are the lifeblood.


	9. Biotic Blue

“Specs?” Garrus asked, looking over her shoulder at the small screen of her terminal. He was mostly in his armor, and tugged on his arm guards as he read the print of the codex file. She wondered if his visor translated or if he actually knew how to read human Standard. After all, she could read Palaveni Standard...mostly. No hope of _speaking_ it, though, since she only had one larynx.

“It was originally an ark ship, meant to carry genetic materials in case of a planetary disaster. I don't know how the Blue Suns got a hold of it, but that's neither here nor there. It's been used as a prison ship for years.”

“Only the most dangerous, eh?” he said sardonically, wrinkling his nose as he looked over the script. _He's actually reading that_, she thought. _I'm impressed._

“That's what it says.” She pulled her pistol from the rack as she got into her armor. “I have no reason to doubt it.”

“Shall we, darling?”

“Feed the fish, would you, please?”

He gave her a look – one that said plainly 'why do you keep these things in a box of water?' – but did as she asked. She grinned and they left her cabin together, heading down to the external hatch where Mordin waited for them.

“Hope this doesn't take long,” the salarian said as soon as they were within earshot. “Have much to do.”

“I know, Mordin. I need you more for your medical expertise and STG training at the moment, however.”

“Expecting trouble?”

“Always.” She checked the seals of her armor a final time and nodded at Garrus to finish up his own checks. “An ark ship turned prison probably means cryogenics. Our asset may need some...attention. And Blue Suns mercs may mean necessary firepower.”

“Understood.” His impatience turned to glee in an instant and she grinned at him.

“Just don't get carried away, Professor.”

“Shocking suggestion, Shepard,” he retorted.

“Why do I suddenly feel like the third wheel? That's the right expression, isn't it?” Garrus asked no one in particular.

“Sorry, babe.” She wrapped an arm around his and gave him a doe eyed look, which he regarded with mock scorn and a huff through his nose plates. “Let's get this over with, gentlemen.”

***

The helmeted guard looked her over lazily. She could just about hear Garrus's spine straighten in disgust at the lack of discipline. “As this is a high security vessel, you'll need to relinquish your weapons before we proceed.”

“How 'bout 'no'?” Jayne said, consciously keeping her hands in full sight. Already the ship felt _wrong_ to her. There was absolutely no way she was going to turn over her weapons and leave herself defenseless among strangers.

“Everyone relax,” an authoritative voice said. Another turian. A bareface. She realized she might have been spending too much time with her boyfriend; she was starting to pick up his prejudices. “Commander, I'm Warden Kuril, and this is my ship. Your weapons will be returned to you on the way out. You must realize this is standard procedure.”

“My standard procedure is to keep my gun.” They stared each other down, but she refused to budge. If they had anything like Galactic News out here in the middle of nowhere, he'd know she was a Spectre. He'd also know she was a one-time Alliance Marine, and the savior of the Citadel to boot. He'd cave, she was sure of it.

“Let them proceed. Our facility is more than secure enough to handle three armed guests.” She raised a brow at him in victory. He didn't deign to notice. “We're bringing Jack out of cryo. As soon as the funds clear, you can be on your way. If you'll follow me to Outprocessing for the pickup, Commander.”

The 'tour' left something to be desired, she had to say. With the way Kuril talked about his facility, it sounded more like he was blackmailing planets with a tidy slave ring on the side for variety. But she gritted her teeth and kept her mouth shut on her opinions. They just wanted Jack, and then they would be gone. She'd deal with Purgatory another time...assuming she got the chance.

Up close she could see traces of purple colony markings on Kuril's face. _Paint, not tattoos_, she thought. _Been a long time since he went home_. And she could tell from the crinkles in his faceplates that he'd been there a long, long time. Not that it made her breathe any easier. Nothing about this made her breathe easy. He left them at another airlock, telling her he wanted to check to make sure the Cerberus funds went through. He gave her scant directions further into the ship and stalked off. She and Garrus exchanged a glance. She'd had this feeling in her gut before.

“Something's fishy in Denmark...” she said under her breath. She could see Garrus remembered her saying that on Feros, right before they'd found the Thorian. He unclipped his sidearm holster unobtrusively. Mordin saw it too – or perhaps knew the quote – and deliberately loosened his stance into what she considered salarian battle readiness. Kirrahe's men had done that before the fighting began on Virmire.

As soon as the cell door opened and Kuril's voice came over the PA, she was glad her instincts hadn't failed her. It wasn't a particularly hard fight, working their way through the security teams, but she was already over of having to fight her way out of every situation. She was tired of it. Soon enough they found themselves at the cryo controls.

“Releasing that will open every door on the cell block,” Garrus warned.

“Yeah, but it's the only way we're going to get what we came for.” She typed in the release and the trio watched through the plate glass down into the cryo bay where a tank was surfacing.

It was a woman inside the cryo tank. And she was young...much younger than Jayne had been expecting. She was surpassingly lovely, too, with delicate features and a distinctive shaved head. Gold filament wound over the shells of her ears, reminding Jayne of ancient Egyptian jewelry. She wondered if they were actually implants. Jack was covered in tattoos, to the point where hardly any of her skin was visible. And all of them were on display, right down to her jutting hipbones. Then she opened her eyes.

And pulled off the restraints holding her inside the cryo chamber with her bare hands.

Jack raced out at the mechs guarding the cell block, glowing blue and screeching. Jayne smiled to herself. Biotic. Of course.

***

Jack had seen the SR-2, Jayne saw as she crept up behind her. She'd made quite a mess of the guards, and cleared most the of the path back to this point. Jayne had only had to take care of Kuril himself when it came down to it. She heard Jack mutter to herself and then give an anguished roar at the ship. Another Cerberus hater. Better and better.

The biotic didn't see the last guard coming up on her, so Jayne took the shot, drawing Jack's attention. She holstered her gun and kept Garrus and Mordin close in case the young woman decided she didn't want to be cooperative.

“What the hell do you want?” she snarled, as if on cue.

“I'm Commander Shepard, and I'm here to get you out of this place.”

“You're Cerberus.” Jack spat the name as if it was the worst foul thing she could think to say.

“No, I'm not.”

Jack pointed at the SR-2, and the logo clearly visible on the hull. “Tell me another one.”

“I work _with_ them, not _for_ them.”

“With them, for them, what does it matter. You think I'm stupid? You show up in a Cerberus frigate and want to take me away somewhere. I know how this story ends.”

“This ship is going down in flames. We can get you to safety, and I need your help.” She caught the fine flare of Jack's nostrils as she processed that and held up her hands. “I'm _asking_ for your help.”

“You want me to come with you? Make it worth my while.”

“What do you want?”

“I bet your ship has got lots of Cerberus databases. I want to take a look at those files. See what Cerberus has on me.”

“Miranda won't like that,” Garrus murmured. Jayne turned to him slightly, keeping Jack in her sights.

“Not her decision,” she said to him. Turning back to Jack, she nodded. “I'll give you free access to anything you want to see.”

“You better be straight up with me,” she said, glowing slightly around the edges. Jayne thought it was probably a useful ploy among those who were not biotic. The abilities were highly ominous even when well trained. She smiled and raised a closed fist, letting some of her own biotics show. Jack didn't look too impressed. But she _did_ look...intrigued. A moment passed between them, something akin to affinity. “So why the hell are we standing here, then?”

“Let's move out.”

***

The QEC passed over her and the Normandy disappeared around her, replaced by the obviously created image of the Illusive Man's hideout, wherever it was. The glow of some huge star kept him in shadow, except for the blazing end of his cigarette and the strange metallic sheen of his eyes. She stood with her arms behind her back and waited for him to speak. His theatrics were wasted on her and she didn't bother to hide her opinion on it.

“Shepard,” he said, oblivious or uncaring of her distaste. “I think we have them! Horizon – one of our colonies in the Terminus Systems – just went silent. If it isn't under attack, it soon will be. Has Mordin delivered the countermeasure to the seeker swarms?”

“Not yet,” she said.

“Let's hope he works well under pressure. There's something else you should know. One of your former crew, Ashley Williams, is stationed on Horizon.”

“Last I knew, she was still Alliance Military. What is she doing out there?”

“Officially it's an outreach program to improve Alliance relations with the colonies. But they're up to something. If Williams is on Horizon, it must be big. I suggest you take it up with her.”

“The Collectors just happened to pick a colony where a former crew member of mine is stationed. I don't buy it.”

“It shouldn't be a surprise the Collectors are interested in you. Especially if they're working for the Reapers. They might be going after her to get to you.”

“Send the coordinates. We'll head straight there.”

“This is the most warning we've ever had, Shepard. Good luck.”

As the QEC faded out, Jayne pinged Joker. “Set a course for Horizon. I have to go see the Professor.”

“Aye aye, Commander.”

She strode next door into the lab where Mordin was watching the captured seeker in its case. “Tell me you have something,” she said, standing beside him.

He turned to her and smiled. “Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Jack way more than I expected. She's tough and vulnerable and smart and cynical and everything Jayne would have been if not for David Anderson. The found family dynamic that grew out of this simple introduction is profound and surprised the heck out of me when I was writing it. I hope you guys like what I do with her. She becomes a rather big player in the rest of this fic.


	10. Birds of a Feather

“Hey,” Jack greeted her as she stepped into the reddish glow of the underbelly of Engineering. Datapads were everywhere, the cot, the floor and there was one in her hand. Jayne smiled.

“You wasted no time, I see. Find anything you were looking for?”

“Is this a fucking interrogation, Shepard?”

“I'm just curious. I wouldn't mind knowing how they brought me back too.”

Jack rummaged through the pile and handed Jayne a datapad with a decryption program still running on it. “I would assume that's this one. Lazarus, right? Back from the dead and all that shit?”

“Yeah...”

“Go ahead and keep it. Doubt you'll get into it. Been running that hack since last night, and it's barely made a dent. How'd you get all this anyway?”

“Commander's privilege.” Jayne didn't comment on the Lazarus 'pad. She figured it was EDI's programming that was keeping Jack out, most likely at Miranda's order. Still, she took it anyway. Even a redacted version of events would be better than nothing.

Jack snorted. “Why did you really come down here, Shepard?”

“You don't have to hide away down here, you know. I can get you a better living space.”

Jack looked around. “I like it down here. It's quiet. Out of the way. Lots of shadows. Defensible.”

Jayne just nodded and didn't take offense. She easily recognized coping mechanisms when she saw them. Hell, she had more than a few of her own. Jack had been through some serious trauma in her short life, especially to end up in a place like Purgatory. She had a right to keep her guard up if she wanted to.

“So...did you want something?”

“I like knowing my crew. Hearing their thoughts, appraisals, suggestions. Got any?”

A calculating look came and went in Jack's eyes, but not fast enough that Jayne hadn't seen the gleam of hope in them too. “I might. Got some ideas on how to upgrade my implant so I don't burn it out.”

“Send them to me. I'll check it out.”

“Why?”

Jayne crossed her arms and cocked her hip, echoing the deceptively lazy stance the biotic regarded her with. “Why not? I want you to be the best you. Stopping the Collectors won't be a walk in the park.”

“I wouldn't know what a walk in the park is like, Shepard,” Jack said drily.

“Sometimes I have trouble remembering it myself.”

“Seen some shit, haven't you? Mindoir, Akuze, the end of the Blitz even. And of course, the fucking Citadel. Everything up until your death is public knowledge,” she hurried to add. “Don't think I have any hero worship going on.”

“I don't.”

“You really like fucking the bird?”

“Careful, Jack. I permit a lot, but some things are off limits.”

“You don't deny it, though.”

“Garrus is one of my oldest and most loyal friends. What we are to each other outside of uniform is no one's business but our own.”

“Sure, Shepard. We can go with that.” She held up another datapad. Jayne was able to make out a blurry image of the hangar. It was a surveillance video, and she saw both the shape of herself and Garrus racing across the screen. “The cheerleader keeps tabs, in case you didn't know.”

Jayne didn't blush, but she did feel a rush of heat go through her body seeing the vid clip. No wonder Miranda had sent her such an angry message to her terminal. She'd been wondering about that. Now she wondered just how many surveillance bugs were in the Loft too. “About what I would expect from Cerberus.”

“If I was you, I'd expect a lot more. Just...a suggestion.”

“Believe me, I'm aware.”

“Was there anything else, fearless leader?”

“We're on our approach to Horizon. I want to take you with me on the ground team. See what you can do without worrying about blowing out the hull. Get ready.”

“You, me and who?”

Jayne had turned to leave, one foot on the bottom stair. She stopped and peered at the young woman with her head cocked. “As if there's any question. You know, turians are much more like raptors than sparrows. Just a...suggestion to keep in mind.”

***

“Okay, he's a hell of a good shot,” Jack said breathlessly as she and Jayne hunkered behind the cover of a prefab wall. Jack wore no armor over her exposed skin, and Jayne could see blood spattering her side where she'd taken some shrapnel from an exploding crate. But the young woman didn't complain, and in fact, seemed to be regenerating her own health the way a krogan would. Mind over matter? She still didn't have the first clue what Cerberus had done to this girl. It was possible. If nothing else, she was damned good at making her own kinetic barrier and maintaining it while using other powers. It was no wonder she was so thin; biotic expression made the metabolism burn _really_ high. Jayne made a mental note to stock more high calorie protein snacks on board, preferably crated up so Jack could take the whole thing to her hideyhole.

She peered around the wall to see where Garrus had gone to ground before the next wave of Collectors appeared in the crowded community square. He was crouched behind some cover of his own, although it wasn't nearly as sturdy as the wall she was behind. He nodded to her from his position to let her know he was fine and they all welcomed the respite they knew would be short.

“You've got some moves yourself, Shepard. Your Warp is pretty lethal.”

“Thank you.”

“Pity you can't Reave.”

“I didn't get any biotic training until after...after Mindoir.”

“Lucky brat.” The words were harsh, but there was something almost soft on Jack's face as she said them. Jayne cracked half a grin. The two women perked up as they heard the distinctive clicking sound of approaching feet.

“Here they come,” Jayne murmured, popping the heat sink of her pistol. The Collector rifle was slung over her back, low on ammunition. There was a crate of heavy ammo on the other side of the park, but she didn't want to risk going to get it until she had to.

The first Collector to enter the square was burning at the edges, and heavily shielded. Jayne didn't know how the controlling consciousness was moving from creature to creature, and she didn't have the time to spare to figure it out, but she knew by now to concentrate her fire on the burning one, letting Jack and Garrus provide covering fire on the others and the husks. She hit the garish Collector with Overload, taking down half the shield. She pumped a full clip of cryo enhanced shots at it, hoping to cool the fire within. It didn't seem to make much difference, but the shield finally fell, leaving the creature vulnerable to the steady barrage of bullets. Garrus and Jack worked on the others in the group until nothing was left but a single legless husk, crawling across the ground on its elbows. Jayne lined up a head shot and put it out of its misery.

“How many of these things are in that ship?” Jack asked with a snarl.

“I don't know. This was what, the third wave of them?”

“Something like that.” The biotic rubbed the back of her head absently. Her amp was getting overheated. Through the fringe of stubble on her head, Jayne could see the scar where it was implanted. She passed her a water bottle without comment and pretended not to see the young woman's relief as she doused herself with it. She'd learned pretty quickly that Jack didn't like to draw attention to herself, even for things she needed. But she didn't turn them down if offered with nonchalance. Jayne set a protein bar within reach too, and said nothing as Jack gobbled it.

“We need to get those guns online,” she said instead, shifting out of cover and making a dash for the computer console in the center of the square. Jack and Garrus followed her, keeping her defended while she hacked the terminal. EDI was able to interface with the guns, but bringing the targeting system online was going to take time. Jayne readied herself for more waves of attacks. She was able to pick up the heavy ammo before the next round began, and crouched down near the decorative railing for cover.

The Collectors – and whatever was controlling them – were getting frustrated. More and more poured into the square, leaving little time to duck into cover and maneuver around. Twice she took hard hits to her shielding, throwing her off balance and making her ears ring in her helmet. EDI completed her work on the guns and they began firing off at targets, providing some much needed relief.

And then it went ominously quiet.

“Is it over?” Garrus asked.

“I doubt it,” Jack sneered. “That ship is still parked up on the hill.”

Jayne spared a glance at the Collector ship, feeling her marrow freeze as she did. This is what destroyed the SR-1, this spiraling conglomerate of spokes and forward facing spikes, covered in what looked like pieces of an asteroid. The Collectors themselves sparked something in her memory, too, although she couldn't place it. _The only species I know of with four eyes is batarian_, she thought to herself when she had a moment. _But these things are very clearly _not_ batarian_.

“Holy shit,” Jack breathed as a shadow passed over the common. Jayne looked up to see a large creature flying in, looking almost exactly like a huge insect, complete with glossy black carapace. Four spindly legs hung under the body, and its head swiveled around, searching for them. There was intelligence to the movement that was disturbing. In some respects it looked like a keeper. In others it looked like the rachni queen. But it was obviously neither.

“This isn't good,” she heard Garrus through her comm. The huge creature landed heavily in the square, demolishing the terminal and cutting off the link to EDI. Still, the AI had done her job well, and the defense guns turned in time to target the large creature.

With a wave, Jayne ordered Garrus and Jack to start hammering the thing with all they had, while she traded out her pistol for the Collector rifle. At first their shots didn't seem to do anything but annoy the creature, who turned a brilliant blue beam on them as a weapon, cutting through their cover like paper. But she could see cracks beginning in the carapace. She stood up to get a better line of sight, but didn't move fast enough to get out of the way of the blue streak of fire headed her way.

The impact threw her off her feet, disintegrating her shielding and scorching a crackling burn up the length of her hardsuit's torso plate. Pain blossomed in every nerve and she felt herself falling and flying away simultaneously.

The world went dark, she couldn't even hear herself breathe...

***

“_Shepard_,” the voice said. “_We did not expect you back so soon_.”

_No...oh no..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm not a super huge fan of the changes the game made between 1 and 2 when it comes to biotics. In order to get the same abilities as the first game, ME2 Jayne had to be a Sentinel. *shrug* Oh well. 
> 
> Also, I have yet to complete the Horizon mission without dying at least once during the fight with the Praetorian. Ugh. Still, it provided an excellent time to reintroduce the Unknown Voice, so I guess that works out, right?


	11. Ashes to Ashes

“_Shepard, you must go back_.” The voice was forceful and direct, loud enough that it made her cringe inside her head.

_How?_

“_Reconnect with your body. You have done this before_.”

_How did I even get here this time?_

“_You are separated from your body. You must go back. We need you, Shepard_.”

_Oh, so now I'm important?_ She scoffed.

“_You have knowledge of which you are unaware. Knowledge that is the salvation of all life as you know it. You must go back_.”

_Why do you suddenly care?_

“_You have been analyzed and integrated. You are the key to stopping the Reapers. We cannot allow you to fail. The Harvest is coming_.”

_That's quite the about face, you know. Also...no shit, Sherlock. I've been saying that for years_.

“_You must take this knowledge and use it, Shepard. All things depend upon it._”

_Tell me how to stop them. Please_.

“_You are an anomaly, Shepard. This task can only be completed by you_.”

_How?_ Silence met her question and she grew abruptly angry. _You know what? Fuck you. If you aren't going to help me understand what I supposedly know, what good are you?_

“_Shepard_...” The voice was fading, but she heard the desperation in it. She couldn't remember hearing such a tone before. The void space spun around her sightless eyes, a feeling like vertigo overtaking the calm emptiness of the place. She felt like she was falling again...

***

She came to with a gasp, the pain in her shocked nerves smothered under a cooling blanket of Medi-gel. Garrus had her head propped in his lap, while Jack kept an eye out for any more assailants. She coughed and levered herself up onto an elbow, heaving for air and shaking her head to clear it.

“Had me worried,” Garrus said, understatement rumbling through his subvocals.

“Me too.” She coughed some more, feeling a tightness in her chest. She looked down and saw the mark on her armor. It had stripped right through the paint, blazing a trail down into the ceramic plate, exposing the filaments of the neural weave. She didn't appear to have any other injuries.

“Lucky for you, bird-boy and I make a good team,” Jack threw over her shoulder.

“Did you kill that thing?”

“We did,” Garrus said. “Wasn't easy.”

A rumble alerted them, just as a cloud of debris and smoke rose from where the Collector ship had landed. Garrus hauled Jayne to her feet and they took off running through the commons, hoping to stop the ship from leaving. There was no stopping it, of course. Handguns and rifles were no match against a space worthy craft, even if it looked like half of it was made of crumbling rock. Still, that didn't prevent them from trying, and the defense guns blasted away at it too. Jayne stopped before she ran out of heat sinks and watched the spiraling shape lift into the sky.

“They got what they came for,” she said.

“Not all of them,” Garrus said.

“Too many. Dammit.”

A man ran out from wherever he'd been hiding, crying out denials and spewing his anger at them that they hadn't done more. Jayne was too tired to fight back and let him vent his spleen, although Garrus was vocally indignant.

“You've done more than anyone else has, Shepard,” he said.

“Shepard,” the man said, spinning around to face them as the ship disappeared through the clouds. “I know that name. I remember you, you're some big Alliance hero.”

“Commander Shepard,” a new voice said. A familiar voice, with an unfamiliar thread of coldness in it. “Captain of the Normandy, the first human Spectre, and savior of the Citadel.” Ashley Williams stepped out from behind a prefab house, her face twisted with both awe and rage. “You're in the presence of a god, Delan. One back from the dead.”

“Half our people taken and you get spared. Figures,” Delan spat. “I'm done with you Alliance types.”

“Ashley...” Jayne said. Williams looked her over carefully, taking note of the scars on her cheeks and forehead, the streak across her armor. She held out her hand, finally, and Jayne took it.

“I thought you were dead, Commander. We all did.”

“I was.” She made no attempt to explain; it was too complicated and unbelievable anyhow. “It's been too long, Ash.”

“That's it? That's all you have to say?” She frowned and took a step back, putting distance between them. “You show up after two years and act like nothing happened?”

“Ash...I _was_ dead. What do you expect me to say?”

“I don't know. Ya know, I would have followed you anywhere, Commander. And then you were gone. I...you were more than our Commander.” Ashley made an impatient face and sort of shrugged all over. “Why didn't you try to contact me? Any of us? Even to just let me know you were alive?”

“I couldn't. A lot of what's happened to me is...classified.”

“Yeah, we got reports about you and Cerberus.”

“Reports?” Garrus asked. “You mean you already knew?”

“Alliance intel said Cerberus could be behind the colony attacks. We got a tip that this one might be the next one to get hit. I went to Anderson, but he wouldn't talk. But there were rumors you weren't dead. Worse, that you were working for the enemy.”

“Our colonies are disappearing. The Alliance turned its back on them. Cerberus is the only one doing anything about it.”

“Bullshit! I know what Cerberus is like. They talk about putting humanity first, but at what cost? I wanted to believe that you were alive, but I...just...I never expected something like this. You've turned your back on everything we stood for!”

“Bold words to the person who saved your ass just now. If I wasn't here, at Cerberus's behest, this entire colony, and you with it, would be gone.” A look of intense distaste crossed Ashley's features. “Ash, you know me,” Jayne said, trying for a calmer tone. “You know I would only be doing this for the right reason. You saw it yourself. The Collectors are targeting human colonies. And they're working with the Reapers.”

“I'd like to believe you, Commander. But I don't trust Cerberus. I'm worried that you do. What did they do to you? What if they're behind it? What if they are the ones working with the Collectors?”

“Damn it, Williams,” Garrus snapped. “You're so focused on hating Cerberus you're missing the bigger picture. You're ignoring the real threat.”

“You're letting past history get in the way of the facts,” Jayne said.

“Or maybe you feel like you owe it to them because they saved you. Maybe it's you. Doesn't matter,” she said, shaking her head. “I still know where my loyalties lie. I'm an Alliance soldier. It's in my blood. I'm reporting back to the Citadel. I'll let them decide if they believe your story.”

“I've already been back. The Council reinstated my Spectre status.”

“What?”

“Come with us, Ash, watch my back if you're so worried about it. See for yourself what's at stake here.”

“No, I can't do that. Cerberus can't be trusted. And as long as you're with them, neither can you. So long, Commander,” she said over her shoulder, starting to walk away. “Good luck.”

Jayne watched Ashley disappear and took a deep breath. She raised the Normandy and called Joker for the shuttle. “I've had enough of this planet,” she muttered under her breath.

***

“No broken ribs, Commander,” Chakwas said, passing her omni-tool over her. “Those upgrades you put on your armor seem to have been effective.”

“Yeah...”

Chakwas sat at her desk – a much more elaborate affair than she'd had on the SR-1 – and swiveled in her chair to face Jayne. “I get the sense there's something else you'd like to talk about.”

Jayne stayed seated on the bed, looking at her hands, seeing where only smudges remained from burns by the heat sinks. “Do you believe there's life after death, Karin?”

“That's not a topic I would expect from you...well, I wouldn't have expected it before, I guess I should say. I don't know, Commander. Do you?”

“I don't know. When I was...dead...I was in a place, dark, empty, infinite. But there was a voice there. It wanted to know everything that had happened to me. My whole life story.”

Chakwas stood and crossed the medbay, getting the bottle of Serrice Ice Brandy from a cabinet and two glasses. “This sounds like it's going to need alcohol. We never did get a chance to open this. Sit, Commander. Tell me about it.”

Jayne moved to a chair and accepted the glass of ice brandy, sipping it. It burned down her throat but was cool at the same time. It was sweet and heady and she took a deep breath before she continued, feeling it settle in her stomach. “It compelled me. Made me relive my memories. It wanted to know mostly about Sovereign and our fight against it.”

“Did it ever tell you why?”

“No, only that it needed the knowledge I had in order to do...something. Integrate and analyze, it said.” She shook her head and contemplated the glass in her hand. “When I took that hit, I was unconscious afterwards. And I heard the voice again. I think...I think maybe I was close to death. It told me I was disconnected from my body, that I had to return and finish what I'd started. I dunno...I feel like I'm crazy just saying this out loud.”

“Have you considered that exposure to Prothean artifacts may have changed your brain chemistry? I could run some tests, if you wanted to know.”

“You mean, like I'm telepathic now or something?” she snorted.

Chakwas didn't seem to be joking and regarded Jayne with a serious expression. “I wouldn't be surprised. You've melded with asari, you've touched two beacons and at least one other Prothean device. You have the entire collective history of their civilization implanted in your mind by the Cipher. I believe this is why the Illusive Man wanted you _saved_, not copied. A clone would not have your memories or knowledge. It would not have the changes you have, or your experiences.”

Jayne looked at Chakwas and felt the rightness of her words settle into her as surely as the brandy. She'd never thought about what her exposure to so many Prothean things had done to her. _A lesser mind would have been utterly destroyed_, she heard Liara say in her memory. A fleeting image of Manuel on Eden Prime, his madness and paranoia plain in every word and gesture, slipped by her mind's eye.

“The voice said I was the key to stopping the Reapers,” she said. “Am I even human anymore?”

Chakwas set down her glass and took Jayne's hands in her own. She looked closely at every feature, every scar that she still hadn't had healed, the brightness of her eyes, the unruly curls of her hair. And she smiled. “You're as human as the rest of us, Jayne. From dust were you made, and to dust shall you return, if you believe in that sort of thing. I know that you are you. I trust that you will do what is necessary to save this galaxy from an unfathomable menace. You have tools at your disposal the rest of us do not, but do not ever let that make you think that you are not human.”

“Thanks, Doc. I think I needed to hear that.”

Chakwas sat back in her chair and topped off their glasses. “Now, shall we reminisce? The old fashioned way – out loud?”

“I'll drink to that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy belated N7 Day!


	12. Clearing the Air

The footage on the surveillance vid played on a loop on the datapad. With each repetition, Jayne grew a little bit angrier. It wasn't so much that she had a problem with security cameras on her ship, but the fact that Miranda had kept the footage of what was obviously a private moment was infuriating. Granted, she knew it was probably EDI who recorded it, but still, the AI couldn't be blamed for doing her job as she was programmed to do. No, this was a subtle reminder that while Miranda was supposedly Jayne's second in command, she really answered to a higher authority. It felt like an attempt to control Jayne's actions with shame. And she wasn't going to stand for it. Now that Horizon was over and she had some time, she needed to clarify things for her Cerberus XO.

The door to Miranda's office cycled open with a soft hiss when she arrived. The operative was seated at her desk, her face neutral. “Shepard. What can I do for you?”

Jayne tossed the datapad in front of her. “You can start by not doing this.”

Miranda watched the loop play for a moment before closing it. She set the datapad aside then laced her fingers together tightly. It was a small tell, but a tell nonetheless. The agent wasn't happy about her reunion with Garrus.

Jayne braced her knuckles on the edge of the desk, knowing it put her at a height advantage over the seated woman, as little as it mattered. “We're in the middle of starting a full on war, Miranda. I finally got someone I care about back in my life besides Joker and Dr. Chakwas. Even Mordin was aware of something between Garrus and I, so I assumed the Illusive Man knew too. Which reminds me that I'm fairly upset none of you saw fit to tell me that Archangel was Garrus, but that's not why I'm here. So...was it really necessary to criticize my methods of de-stressing?”

“I'm not sure what you mean.”

“The message you sent me, telling me how inappropriate it was for me to fuck my boyfriend in the hangar, for one thing,” she said, purposely paraphrasing Miranda's words as baldly as she could. “And frankly that surveillance footage remained long enough to be downloaded to a datapad, for another.”

“To be honest, the Illusive Man never considered the rumors about you and a turian C-Sec officer to be anything more than that: rumors. You were an Alliance soldier, and a good one. There have always been strict regulations against fraternization.”

Jayne gave Miranda's words due consideration. She hadn't thought of it from that position. She sat down, backing off from her aggressive stance. “That seems rather out of character for the Illusive Man,” she said. “I thought he was known for looking at all the angles.”

“We all make mistakes on occasion.”

“Hmm. As far as any fraternization charge...” She tipped her head to the side, confused. “Do people really think I saw Garrus as a subordinate member of my crew?”

“Why wouldn't they?”

“None of the squadmates who weren't human signed anything like a contract stating that they were joining the Alliance. And I certainly didn't run the ship under Alliance rules. I was a Spectre. Chasing down Saren was a Spectre assignment, not an Alliance one. Not to mention, my relationship with Garrus predates my assignment to the Normandy or anything that happened after that.”

“I suppose that's true. Forgive me if my criticism oversteps any boundaries, but...”

“Yes?”

“Commander,” Miranda started calmly, picking her words with care. “What you do on your own time is of course none of my business. But when you take it outside of quarters, it violates protocol and...”

“Protocol,” Jayne echoed, a bit disbelieving. “Are you telling me that this ship, which is mostly Cerberus crew and was paid for by private enterprises, pretends to run along Alliance regulations?”

“It's not that, per se...”

“The hangar is not a public access area of the ship. Why are there even surveillance cameras down there anyway?” She shook her head. “That's neither here nor there. You can't have it both ways, Miranda. This isn't the military. I am under no obligation to treat it like it is, regardless of my history as an Alliance Marine. You want the job done, I'll do it. But I'll do it on my own terms.”

“The Illusive Man...”

“Oh, fuck the Illusive Man, Miranda. What's his problem with it? And why does it bother anyone if I want to kiss my boyfriend anywhere I please? Or is it because he's turian?”

Miranda looked away for a moment, her face taking on an expression that was closed and impossible to read. “It doesn't bother anyone.”

“That's a pretty high stack of bullshit. It's not like I can fire you, so speak your mind.”

“All right. The Illusive Man _is_ concerned that your involvement with a turian means your loyalties are divided. We need you to focus, Commander. Anything outside of that is merely a distraction from the mission.”

Jayne kept the flare of temper until control, letting none of it show on her face. “Let me make this perfectly and unmistakably clear, Miss Lawson. My _loyalty_ is not to Cerberus. There are over a half a dozen other races that face annihilation when the Reapers come. Saving just ourselves won't count for shit if we let them fall. Garrus Vakarian has been with me since before any of this began. He has always been my backup, my support, and my friend. Yes, we are lovers. Have been for a long time. The fact that he's turian has little to do with it. It's never interfered with my ability to do my job. It won't now. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Commander.”

Jayne relaxed at the crisp agreement. She understood it was difficult for a woman like Miranda to see the bigger picture when her head was full of Cerberus propaganda. She knew the organization had rescued Miranda from virtual enslavement at the hands of her father, but that didn't mean she had to accept that sort of treatment in return. “When the battle is over and the bodies are counted and buried, then maybe I'll give you leave to chastise me about inappropriate use of the cargo bay. Until then, you will just have to accept that I won't play by your rules, nor do I care for attempts to rebuke me for private activities on the ship of which I am in command. And don't get me started on why you kept a recording of it. I could make quite the allegation of prurience, there.”

Miranda seemed to be assessing her across the desk, leaning back in her chair and consciously loosening her fingers from their tight hold on each other. Jayne wouldn't say she looked _guilty_, but there was definitely something in her body language that spoke of something at play that didn't add up. Envy, perhaps? “Fair enough. I will set EDI to disable any surveillance recorders should something like this happen again.”

“I appreciate that.” Jayne stood up, feeling like their interview was nearly over. “I'm sure you're still wishing you could have implanted me with a control chip, that it would have made your life easier. I'm still not sorry you couldn't do it.”

Miranda suddenly glared at her, as if she disliked the reminder that she hadn't gotten her way about that. Any sense of mutual cooperation disappeared as the operative's face hardened in expression.

***

_2185_

“I wasn't in charge, the Illusive Man was,” Miranda said. “If I was running things, we'd have done a few things differently.”

“Like what?” Jayne asked, genuinely curious as to why this prickly woman who so determinedly saved her life also treated her like something that had crawled from a swamp.

“To start, I would have implanted you with some type of control chip. But the Illusive Man wouldn't allow it.”

“Good call on his part,” she commented. Miranda just looked at her, mildly irritated at the interruption. Either she didn't know or didn't care that Jayne was a survivor of Mindoir. A control chip would have triggered too many bad memories, and she would have rebelled even stronger against their orders just out of spite. Which was still likely, she admitted to herself.

“He was afraid it might affect your personality, alter your character somehow. He wouldn't let us do anything that might limit your potential in any way.” She had a fluid stance as she spoke that made Jayne think that maybe she _didn't_ know her history. Certainly she wasn't sure she'd be able to be that relaxed while outright telling someone who'd been through such a trauma that she'd planned to do it again.

“Miranda, you know I survived a batarian slave raid on Mindoir, right?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.

“Of course. I know everything about your history.”

“Then you know the batarians put a control chip on me during the events of that day.”

“And?”

Jayne huffed an exasperated sigh. Well, she had her answer. The woman didn't care. “Yes, it would have _affected_ _my_ _personality_ to be implanted. I would have killed you all regardless of what you thought you could control. Without thought or question.”

Miranda turned smug. “The chip would have prevented exactly that.”

“I'm sure you think it would have. You don't seem to have much knowledge of what PTSD can do for brain chemistry.”

“I have enough knowledge of what you can do, however.”

“Don't count on it. Don't ever count on my past being the same as my future. You brought me back to life, without my consent, knowledge or wishes. I am not the same woman who died on Alchera. Don't _ever_ forget it.” Miranda didn't seem fazed by her outburst and Jayne sighed. She wasn't sure why she'd bothered trying to make nice with a Cerberus operative.

“We have a mission to do, Commander,” Miranda said. “We can talk about it, or we can do it.”

“Let's go. The sooner we're done with this, the sooner I can put you in my rearview.”

***

“We aren't friends, even if we've cleared up some...misunderstandings,” Jayne said now, returning them from the reverie. “And that's fine. We don't have to be. But you're under orders by the Illusive Man to follow my commands. They happen to align currently with your organization. That will not always be the case. Do us both a favor and remember that.”

“I will, Commander.”

“We're done here.”

“As you wish.”

Jayne turned to leave, feeling like they had made progress only to step backwards from it in the same breath. She stopped at the door, looking back to see Miranda from the corner of her eye. “Did it ever occur to any of you that I would have been more willing to help if you'd been more honest from the get go? From the moment I woke up on that table, it's been one thing after another, and all of it buried under a layer of lies and secrecy. I never asked for any of this, and I'm not just some tool at your disposal like EDI. If you treat a living person like a science project without remorse or compassion, you will only earn resentment.”

She turned to face Miranda more fully, to see her face as she spoke. To make sure her words were being heeded. “I'm not an unreasonable person. But you started off on the wrong foot, with a lack of empathy that made Sovereign seem friendly. You have never trusted me to actually know what I'm doing, or made me feel as if my own experiences were anything more than ammunition for you to use against me. For someone who claims to be 'never wrong', that was a potentially fatal mistake to make in regards to our working relationship. You better hope this mission ends the way you plan it will. Because while you may have brought me back to life, Miranda, you do not have any ownership of it. Don't ever forget that Cerberus is only out of my crosshairs _temporarily_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know a lot of people love Miranda Lawson. I don't. I think she's sanctimonious, smug and willfully blind to the atrocities Cerberus is capable of. And yeah, I know in the end if you gain her loyalty she turns her back on the Illusive Man, blah blah, character arc. Anyone who has had to experience a real 'deal with the devil' situation would not ignore all that came before to be friends with her afterwards like it was no harm, no foul. (I feel the same way about Jacob too. He's just easier to brush off since he's basically an asshole. His turn for a Jayne Shepard dressing down is coming too.)
> 
> *Edit* As of November 17th, I've rewritten large portions of this chapter, to reflect some points brought up by FasterPuddyTat (thanks, dear, truly). I still feel like there's a whole hell of a lot of hubris lacking from Miranda's character, but I attempted to tone down Jayne's outright antipathy for her. Tried to make her more reasonable about the fact that no one has all the answers here and the way things were done in the past isn't necessarily how things will go in the future. Let me know what you think (if you've read the previous version or not). I love to hear from my readers.


	13. Familiar Faces

Talking with Joker and EDI about Horizon helped put her back on even keel. The AI called the giant bug thing a Praetorian, and had quite a few assessments to offer about fighting them, since it was likely to happen again. Afterwards, Jayne was walking through the CIC when Kelly Chambers lifted her head to catch her attention. “Jack wanted to see you, Commander.”

“Thanks. How's the rest of crew doing?”

“Nothing to report. I see you made a requisition for more levo supplies?” The look was studiously innocent, but the tone gave her away. Jayne looked the yeoman over, something like reprimand on her face.

“I would expect that was between me and Mess Sergeant Gardner. Is it your job to read every email and report my activities to Cerberus?”

Chambers had the good manners to looked abashed. “In part, Commander. The Illusive Man wants to have a detailed accounting of everything you do.”

“I'm overly aware. In this case, you may remind the Illusive Man that we have _four_ biotics on board. Biotics need more food than the average person, our metabolisms run high and hot. Use of our powers is physically draining. I would imagine, with all his seemingly endless resources, and his close work with both Miranda and Jacob, that he would have known this already and planned accordingly.”

“Yes, ma'am. I'll...I'll make mention of that in my next report.”

“You do that.”

***

“Shepard, I found it! I gotta get out there and blow that place the fuck up.”

Jack was pacing back and forth in her small spot, her agitation making her glow. Jayne held out her hands. “Slow down, Jack. What did you find?”

“Pragia. It's where they kept me. Where I grew up.” The young woman slammed her fist into her palm, sparks of biotic energy literally popping off her skin. “We gotta go there. I need to...I need to end it, once and for all. I don't want to wake up anymore and know that it still exists.”

There was a subtext to Jack's words that Jayne could hear even if she didn't fully understand it. There were things the girl wasn't telling her, but she wasn't a fool. She knew Jack had been tortured, knew that she blamed Cerberus for it. That was why she'd wanted the files, to find out how much, how long and most importantly, _where_. And Jayne didn't disagree with her one bit.

“As soon as we're done with this run to Ilium, we'll set a course.”

“Crossing more names off the list?” Jack asked slyly, her head cocked to the side. Jayne smiled.

“Keeping tabs of your own now?”

“Hey, you gave me free run of the files. I saw all those dossiers. Didn't know bird-boy was Archangel. I think I know why you like him so much now. You have quite the dark side you don't let anyone see, don't you?”

“Garrus wasn't always so...”

“Violent?”

Jayne made a face. “I was going to say, vengeful. Hmm, that might not be right either. He's always hated injustice. And he's never had a qualm about using brute force to fight it. But there's a strict moral code that keeps him from turning into another Zaeed.”

Jack snorted. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.” She went back to her restless pacing for a moment before stopping, seeing Jayne still there. “Shepard...thank you for this.”

“You deserve a chance to put your demons to rest, Jack,” she said quietly. “We all do.”

“Don't get sappy. Shit. Anyway, just...I appreciate it, all right?”

“You're welcome. So what do you know about these other two, if anything?”

“Don't know anything about the Justicar, but I know the assassin is a drell. I been around, heard his name. Buncha people are scared as shit of him. But he changed at some point, stopped working for the hanar, went freelance. Now he's seen as more of a warrior monk with altruism than anything.”

“A monk with altruism? Wait, he worked for the _hanar_?”

“Yeah, there's some deal between drell and the jellies, I don't know the details. Anyway, he only takes on jobs that bring down certified assholes. Won't kill innocents, sees every job as some kind of religious thing, that kind of shit.”

“I see. Thanks, Jack, that's...enlightening.” Jayne turned to leave, and was nearly up the stairs when she heard the biotic call to her.

“Hey, when we get to Pragia, bring Garrus along. Ya know, on the team. It wasn't terrible working with him.”

“All right.” Jayne nodded and left. She was glad the young woman couldn't see the smile on her face. Jack had called him by name.

***

“Your docking fees and registration paperwork have all been filed and paid for, Commander Shepard,” the asari concierge said, smiling.

“Paid for? By whom?”

“Liara T'Soni. I know she is very much looking forward to seeing you.”

***

“Shepard.” Liara folded her arms around Jayne and held her tight. She returned the embrace heartily. Two years had matured her. The timid Prothean archaeologist was gone. This was a maiden of means, and apparently unafraid to use those means to her own ends.

“You don't seem surprised to see me,” Jayne said.

“Surprised? No. I...information is my business now, Shepard. I'm very good at it. I knew sooner or later you would come here.” She stepped back and the two women looked at each other. Liara seemed to linger over the fading scars, the glint of tech showing through. Meanwhile, Jayne was cataloging the changes in her friend too, seeing a wealth of confidence and assurance in the asari that had never been there before. Liara looked over Jayne's shoulder. “It's good to see you, Garrus.”

“Good to see you too, Liara. Looks like you've been keeping yourself busy.”

“I have.” She went back to sit at her console. “And you must be Miss Lawson.” Miranda nodded. “Now, regarding my work in information, what can I do for you, Shepard?”

“I'm looking for Thane Krios, and an asari Justicar.”

“Thane has been contracted to kill Nassana Dantius, and the Justicar Samara is overseeing a murder case involving a volus trader.”

“Just like that, off the top of your head?”

“I'm _very_ good at what I do, Shepard.”

“So I see. Well, where should I start?”

“Recruiting the Justicar means helping her finish the murder case, I'm afraid. Justicars are a unique sect among my kind, unswayed by motivations such as credits or reputation. Their agenda is only and forever fighting against wrongdoing. She won't leave Ilium for anything less than full resolution. Peaceful or otherwise.”

“Duly noted. And Krios?”

“I know only of his contract, not how far along he is in it. The rules here are looser than other places in the galaxy, Shepard. I have no interest in stopping him, but again, he may wish to fulfill his contract before joining you. Your best bet would be to track down Nassana, and follow her movements. Wherever she is, he will not be far behind.”

“Thanks. I don't suppose there's any way for you to join me?”

“I'm sorry, Shepard, but I can't leave my...commitments right now. I have debts to repay.” Her gaze slid momentarily past Miranda before coming back to focus on Jayne. She hadn't missed it. She'd stake her exorbitantly expensive life on there being a Cerberus connection to Liara's 'debts'.

“Are you in trouble, Liara?”

“No, nothing like that. I simply can't walk away from them now. Although you might be able to help me.”

“What do you need?”

“There are security nodes that I've been trying to gain access to. So far I've failed. If you could assist me in hacking them...my debts would be repaid sooner.”

“I've never been a particularly skilled hacker.”

Liara smiled gently. “I know. Take this program. It will do all the work for you. I just need you to be in the physical proximity to engage it.”

“All right, but you'll owe me a full explanation one of these days.”

“I'll tell you what I can, Shepard. I promise.”

There was a disquieting feeling in Jayne's gut, but she didn't press. It was obvious Liara was protecting either herself or someone else. Two years was a long time, and the galaxy had changed so much. Jayne had to keep moving forward, getting sidetracked wasn't going to help that. “All right, I'll see what I can do.”

“Thank you. Please, feel free to come see me again before you leave Ilium. We have much to catch up on.”

Thus dismissed, Jayne, Garrus and Miranda left Liara's office.

“Don't let the pretty colors fool you, Jayne. This place is no better than Omega.”

“So it seems, babe.”

“We should get moving,” Miranda said severely. _I'm in the unfortunate position of needing your help_, she recalled Miranda saying before they docked. She'd never seen the operative more nervous. She hoped that meant she'd taken her ass chewing to heart. Well, taking care of her sister problems was on the to do list. Might as well get it over with.

“Let's find this contact.”

***

“I know you,” Nassana said, facing her down across a bank of consoles, her asari commandos at the ready. Jayne was tired. It had already been a very long day. At least Oriana was now safe, although Miranda was shaken and distracted. “Formally dead Spectres don't scare me,” Nassana went on. She gave Jayne a smile that held no warmth. “You know, I paid you off well for killing my sister. Perhaps we can come to a suitable arrangement again.”

“I'm not here for you, Nassana.”

“What do you mean? You've nearly destroyed my tower to get to me! You don't have to do this, you know. Whatever you were offered, I can outmatch it.”

There was a muffled thump overhead in the airducts – so that's how he'd been staying ahead of them – and the commandos tensed. “No amount of money in the world can save you now, I think,” Jayne said.

It happened almost faster than she could watch. The long figure of a man dropped from the ceiling, killing off the bodyguards with swift assurance before driving a pistol into Nassana's middle and firing. All told, it probably only took a handful of seconds for the assassin to clear the room of all adversaries. He cradled the dying asari gently, laying her down across the console before arranging her hands in a peaceful pose. He folded his hands together and bowed his head.

“Thane Krios, I presume?”

“Forgive me, Commander Shepard, prayers for the wicked should never be forsaken.”

“She certainly was wicked, but do you think she was worth your prayers?”

“They're not for her, they are for me.”

She remembered what Jack had said. _Some kind of warrior monk with altruism_. She recalled, too, how many salarian workers Thane had striven to save and keep out of danger. She waited patiently for him to finish.

“Apologies,” he said when he was done. She walked closer to him, looking him over. She couldn't remember ever meeting another drell.

“I see no wickedness here,” she said softly, meeting his eyes. His face was grave and serious, but his eyes were alive with emotion. “I've come to ask your help against the Collectors.”

He turned and looked out the window across the skyline of Ilium. “Interesting. Attacking the Collectors would require passing through the Omega 4 relay. No ship has ever returned from doing so.”

“So I've heard. They tell me it's a suicide mission. I intend to prove them wrong.”

“A suicide mission. Yes, a suicide mission will do nicely. I'm dying. This was supposed to be my last contract. Low survival odds don't concern me. The abduction of your colonies does.”

“I'm sorry, I didn't know that.”

“Do not be concerned. I am not contagious, not even to other drell. And I will survive long enough to do this.” He turned to her, away from the glittering skyline. “The universe is a dark place. I'm trying to make it brighter before I die. Many innocents died today. I wasn't fast enough and they suffered. I must atone for that. I will work for you Shepard. No charge.”

“Thank you, Thane.” They shook on it, his dry skin against hers rasping. “Welcome aboard.”

***

“What's your issue, Jacob?” she asked as they stood around in the conference room. Thane seemed calm in the face of Jacob's distaste but Jayne was just tired.

“I don't like mercenaries, and an assassin is just a precise mercenary.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. “Jacob, you get paid by the Illusive Man to be a heavy. What exactly does that make you?”

He turned his face to her and scowled and she mentally dared him to say something further, but he backed down. The silence in the room was deafening. Thane eventually cleared his throat. He certainly wasn't what she'd expected. He was compact and still, his conservation of energy either a reaction to his illness or from long practice in making himself unseen.

“Where shall I put my things?” he asked. “I prefer someplace dry.”

EDI's blue globe popped up. “The Life Support Plant on the Crew Deck tends to be a little more arid than the rest of the ship.”

“Ah, an AI.” He actually bowed a little in the icon's direction, piquing Jayne's interest further. “My thanks.”

The drell assassin left the conference room and EDI's orb swiveled around so she was 'facing' Jayne. “He seems quite civil.”

“Yeah, he does,” Jayne said pointedly, not looking at Jacob. The Cerberus agent left the room in a huff and Jayne shook her head. “I swear, this isn't a team. This is a herd of cats.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all. Y'ALL! With this update, my total word count - across all I've written, all my fandoms - just tipped 500K. I've posted a half a million words as of today. In two years and one month. And I couldn't have done it without you, dear readers.


	14. Cleanse It With Fire

She heard the door to the Loft cycle open and closed, but didn't turn from her desk as Garrus approached. Plotting a course nearly all the way across the galaxy wasn't easy, even if EDI was faster than Joker could ever hope to be. Not that she'd dream of saying that aloud. But aside from the distance, and the time it would take, she needed to consider their supplies as well. Bigger ship meant bigger crew. She might have all the backing of Cerberus's resources, but she didn't have the contacts her old req officer did. Already the cargo hold was full, especially with that tank bred krogan still sleeping in his pod. She really needed to make a decision about him sooner or later.

“What's this?” Garrus asked, hefting the bag that still had her old helmet in it. Before she could stop him, he'd lifted it out, cradling it in his hands. “Spirits, Jayne...is this what I think it is?”

“My helmet,” she said shortly. “I found it on Alchera.”

He muttered something that didn't translate and she cocked her head, raising a brow. He looked sheepish and put the helmet back. “Sorry.”

“What brought you up here?”

“I found a lead on Sidonis.”

“Where?” She recalled him telling her everything, and her heart ached anew for what he'd lost. It was one thing to lose a comrade in battle, it was another entirely to lose a team due to betrayal.

“The Citadel.”

“All right. Once we're done with Jack's desire to blow things up, we'll head straight there.”

“You're really going to help her?”

“Yes.” She turned in her chair to face him. He was leaning against the fish tank, and she saw a cloud of food descending through the water. She hadn't even asked. Which then made her wonder how long she'd been at this to forget to do it herself. “Babe, she _needs_ this closure. Just like you do.”

“No worries that the Illusive Man will get his...what's the phrase you use? Panties in a twist?”

She smiled. “That's the one. And no. He had to be aware as soon as I gave Jack those data files what she was looking for and how she'd react. If nothing else, he seems remarkably well informed about my people.” She shrugged. “Not surprising, considering he picked them all. He lied to me though.”

“How so?”

“He never told me you were Archangel. He had to have known.”

“Probably. It's not like I went to any length to hide it.”

“Anyway, even if he does want to have a temper tantrum over this, I don't care. He's funding the mission, but I owe him no loyalty.”

“He resurrected you.”

“I didn't ask him to.” She knew the words pained him the moment they left her mouth, but the fact remained. She was getting weary of constantly being reminded of how much she unwillingly owed the organization she'd once spent considerable time fighting against.

“I'm glad he did,” Garrus said softly, coming to stand next to her. “I was lost without you.”

She made a face, equal parts sad and frustrated. “It's hard to reconcile the fact that I'm happy to be alive with the fact that so many people were hurt by my death and are now hurt again by my sudden reappearance. I can't seem to bridge the gap.”

Garrus took her hands in his and drew her out of her chair. “Is this about Ashley? Forget all those things she said, Jayne. Some people can't see the shade in the sun.”

“On Earth we'd say the forest for the trees.”

“You're deflecting,” he accused, but not in a harsh way.

She sighed. “Maybe I am. Maybe Ash was right. Am I really defending Cerberus? Have I become a pawn?”

“I don't think so. I think you're making the best out of a bad set of circumstances. You won't be beholden to Cerberus forever.” He pressed his brow to hers. “And for whatever it's worth, I'm very glad you're still alive.”

“Thanks, babe.”

***

Pragia was steamy and tropical. Hot, humid and overgrown with such verdant life that the roof of the facility was nearly overtaken by it and the shuttle had trouble finding a place to land. Jack stepped out onto the roof and took a deep breath, something passing through her eyes that made her look like a lost child. Thunder rumbled in the distance and it began to rain, going from a fine mist to a steady downpour in seconds.

“Are you all right?” Jayne asked.

“Yeah, I'm...was it a mistake coming back here?” She hardened her expression, wiping away any trace of the lost child she once was. “No, let's get this over with. I wanna look back and see a crater when we leave.”

***

“What the hell is the Blood Pack doing here?” Jayne snarled as she and Garrus hunkered down behind some cover. Jack was already blasting through them with her biotics, given free rein by Jayne to do what she needed to do.

Garrus didn't answer, only giving her a silent stare. She wondered what was going through his head watching Jack take her revenge on the place that had molded her. Wondered if he saw the parallels to himself as Archangel.

Once they fought through the handful of vorcha and their krogan keepers, they moved on, through empty rooms, flickering images of security footage and long corridors. It was quiet enough to hear the storm outside, even as deep into the facility as they were. Jayne had a better sense of what Cerberus had been trying to achieve, even if Jack claimed to remember it differently.

She was being conditioned, shaped into the perfect biotic warrior, tested time and again against other children, other experiments. It was sickening, reading between the lines of the torture they'd put those children through, and Jack with them. _Subject Zero_. She suddenly wished Miranda was with them, just to push in her face how wrong she was about the organization she held so dear. There was no way she could deny the Illusive Man's involvement in what happened to Jack. The security footage was explicit.

“Jayne,” Garrus said, putting a hand on her shoulder. She realized she'd been staring at her own reflection in the darkened glass Jack had claimed was a window to her cell. She didn't know how long she'd been standing there, seeing herself in blurry reverse.

“Sorry. I'm all right. Let's go.”

***

“It's all fallen to pieces,” the scientist said in the holo footage. The image was unclear, breaking up. Not surprising after so many years of neglect. “The subjects are rampaging and Zero is loose. We're shutting Teltin down. What a disaster. We'll infiltrate and piggyback onto the Alliance's Ascension program. Hopefully that will...Who? Zero...wait!” The image cut out as the body of the scientist flew out of the frame.

Jayne turned to Jack, who had a confused look on her face. She covered it over with anger. “Shepard, they started up somewhere else!”

“Ascension is an Alliance program. It's a school for biotic kids. They don't torture anyone there. I would know.” She had been through it herself, after Mindoir and the emergence of her own powers. She remembered being the oldest one in her class, in every class. It was a logical step to join the Alliance Military when she graduated. She'd always assumed that's why the Alliance had started the program in the first place, to shuttle all those biotic kids into the military and put them to use on behalf of humanity.

“A lot of this is...not how I remember it,” Jack said, starting to sound panicked. Jayne dared to take her hand and squeezed it, bringing her back to the present.

“There was a lot going on,” Jayne said. “And you were just a child. You had no way of knowing what happened outside your sphere, outside your perception.”

“I was dumb,” Jack said, disagreeing and pulling her hand free. “I keep my eyes open now, and always shoot first. We're getting close to my cell. Let's go.”

***

More Blood Pack. They'd overheard the leader talking to someone else, so Jayne guessed they had been hired to clear the place out, not that much was left to salvage. Taking them down wasn't easy, but it wasn't all that hard either. They worked well as a team, each playing to their strengths. Once they'd cleared the Blood Pack, they made their way to Jack's old room.

A man was hiding there, his face pocked and aged far more than Jack's, although they otherwise looked to be about the same age. He had a nervous look about him, shifty eyes and tremors in his hands.

“Who are you?” Jack demanded, drawing her gun.

“My name is Aresh, and you're breaking into my home. I know you, Subject Zero. So many years have passed, and I thought I was the only survivor.” He stepped closer to Jack and she raised her pistol, keeping it steadily aimed at his head.

“My name is Jack. How the hell do you know me?”

“We all knew your face, _Jack_. They inflicted horrors on us so their experiments wouldn't kill you. You were the question. I'm still looking for the answer.”

“Looks like you weren't the only one pulled back here,” Jayne murmured.

“I tried to forget this,” Aresh said, tapping his head with a shaky finger. “But a place like this...it doesn't forget you. It follows you. I hired these mercs and came back almost a solar year ago. We've been rebuilding it piece by piece. I'm going to find out what they knew, how to unlock true biotic potential in humans. I'm restarting the Teltin facility.” He turned away from them, even away from Jack's unwavering aim. “It will be beautiful,” he said, with the fervor of a maniac.

“I wanted a hole in the ground, and he's trying to justify what happened here by using it?”

“You'd do the same thing to other kids?” Jayne asked him. “Wasn't this forced on you?”

“Some were bought from poor families on Earth or kidnapped from colonies. Most ended up here the way I did: batarian pirates.” A cold chill went through Jayne. A pristine specimen, they'd called her, fitting the holding implant to the back of her neck. Unsullied, untrained. Only get a good price if she was kept that way. She pushed the memories aside. Now she had to focus on keeping Jack safe. “They did such horrible things to us,” Aresh went on. “They must have had good reasons.”

“He's insane,” Garrus said softly, too low for the man to hear.

“There's no reason good enough!” Jack exclaimed. “Are you nuts? You lived it.”

“This place was like a prison,” Jayne said. “How did you escape?”

“We all attacked at once as they were taking us to the lab. They would have put us down, but then Zero got loose. When I came to, it was over. All the scientists, the guards...even the kids were dead. And you were gone,” he finished, turning to Jack. Her arm was beginning to tremble, but Jayne didn't think it was because she was tired.

“I stopped it,” she cried. “All of it! Maybe the others did have it bad, but what you're doing is just messed.”

“Everything we went through must have had a purpose,” Aresh said, pleading as if he could make her see reason. “It must have been worth something!”

“Jack, we can blow this place, but that leaves him. What do you want to do?”

“That's easy,” she replied, stepping to his side and facing Jayne, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

“Just leave me here,” Aresh said. “It's where I belong.”

“Yeah, as a fucking corpse,” Jack said, throwing him to the floor with her biotics.

“Jack!” Jayne shouted. “He's trapped in the past. You need to move on from yours.”

“He wants to restart this place. He needs to die.”

“He's crazy, Jack. He's never going to restart this place. We're going to blow it up, remember? Let him go. Your past no longer has any power over you.”

“Fuck,” Jack swore, then dropped her arm. “Get out of here. Go!”

Aresh ran off, disappearing around a corner practically before they could turn to watch him leave. “You did the right thing, Jack,” Jayne said.

“Maybe.” She looked sullen, but not angry.

“Let's finish this up.”

“Gimme a minute.” Jack walked around the room, taking note of the few things that remained in it. She made little comment, but each piece put together more of the puzzle that was Jack. Jayne bit the inside of her lip to keep from trying to comfort her, knowing sympathy wasn't what the other woman wanted. “All right, enough wallowing,” she said when she was done. “Let's blow this place to hell.”

They set the bomb there, right in the center of her room. Jack armed a remote detonator and they filed back out of the place in silence, finding the shuttle dripping from the storm. They took off back to the SR-2 and Jack thumbed the detonator in her hand, over and over. She almost seemed hesitant now.

“Do it,” Jayne ordered, a wave of secondhand catharsis thrumming in her.

Jack kept her eyes locked with Jayne's and pressed the button firmly with her thumb. The explosion buffeted the shuttle, but their eyes never parted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's late, I was out of town for Thanksgiving. Hope everyone is staying cozy with whatever wild weather they're having (ours is currently an ice storm that wants to be a blizzard when it grows up).


	15. The Perspective of History

Joker piped into her comm as she was making her rounds through the CIC. “Uh, Commander? Jack and Miranda are having a...disagreement. Can you head it off before they tear out a bulkhead?”

“I'll deal with it,” she said with a sigh, heading to the elevator.

“Take pictures,” Joker signed off cheerfully, making her smile. She really needed to get him off the ship more often.

As soon as the door to Miranda's office cycled open she could hear Jack shouting. “Touch me and I'll smear the walls with you, bitch!”

The pair of them glowed brightly, and a piece of furniture went flying, crashing against the outer hull. Miranda just managed to duck away from it, but came up with her face set, her fingers already curling with the urge to strike back. Her biotic glow intensified.

“Enough!” Jayne snapped. “Both of you, stand down.”

“The cheerleader won't admit what Cerberus did to me was wrong,” Jack said, her voice full of venom. She stalked into Miranda's space, sneering right in her face.

“It wasn't Cerberus, not really. But clearly you were a mistake.” Miranda backed off, putting distance between them again.

Jack bristled and Jayne held up her hand. “Miranda, the reports were being filed directly to the Illusive Man. It was Cerberus.”

“It can't be. No, the reports must have been falsified or there was something you missed.”

“Screw you,” Jack snarled. “You've got no idea what they put me through. Maybe it's time I showed you!”

“Ladies! Our mission is too important to let personal feelings get in the way.”

“Fuck your feelings. I just want her dead.”

“Dammit, Jack. You both know what we're up against. Save your anger for the Collectors.”

“I can put aside my differences...until the mission's over,” Miranda said coolly.

“Fine, I'll do my part. I'd hate to see her die before I had a chance to filet her myself.” Jack left the office and Jayne let her go.

“It's a good thing you came by when you did,” Miranda said, righting the chair Jack had thrown. She was icily calm and entirely too ready to dismiss the whole thing for Jayne's peace of mind. She still hadn't earned herself much sympathy from Jayne, no matter what small amount of emotion she'd shown when rescuing her sister. “As long as she does her job, we'll be fine. Thank you, Shepard.”

“Miranda...she wasn't wrong, you know. I saw that security footage myself. I fought against Cerberus the whole time I was hunting down Saren. You can't keep pretending your precious organization is above atrocities. I survived Akuze, I've seen firsthand what Cerberus has done. For fuck's sake, you brought me back from a dead body! You think I don't know what kind of things you had to do to accomplish that?” Miranda shot her an inscrutable look and began typing on her terminal. “One of these days, we are going to have to talk about this.”

“I'd rather we didn't,” Miranda clipped out, her voice frigid.

“I know that. But we aren't going to make it as a cohesive team with this hanging between us. You're a smart, powerful woman, Miranda. You're better than willfully ignorant and blindly faithful. Take off the blinders and _see_ what's really happening here. We can't all be wrong. We can't all be 'misunderstanding' Cerberus. I know they saved your life, and through them, you saved mine. That doesn't excuse the things they did that ended and _ruined_ others' lives. There's a line between the greater good and outright mad scientist megalomania. At some point, you _will_ have to decide which side of the line you're on.”

***

“Commander, the Illusive Man would like to speak to you,” Chambers said as she exited the elevator back on the CIC.

“Thank you.” She didn't really feel like talking with the man who was the root of her problems with her own crew members, but she also knew she couldn't take that out on the yeoman. She detoured through Mordin's lab and entered the conference room, making sure the door was closed behind her. She took a couple of deep breaths to center herself and activated the communicator.

The QEC's holographic beam passed over her and she saw the Illusive Man backlit by the huge sun of wherever he was. “Shepard, we caught a break. I intercepted a distress call from a turian patrol. They stumbled on to a Collector ship beyond the Korlus system. The turians were wiped out, but not before they disabled the vessel. I need you to board that ship and get some hard data on the Collectors. Find us a way to get onto their homeworld.”

“Hard to believe a turian patrol could take out a Collector ship,” she said, crossing her arms, trying to silence the bullshit meter screaming in her head while not allowing it to show through her carefully neutral expression.

“Reports indicate the hull is intact, but the systems seem to be offline. They could be making repairs as we speak. I'm not saying it won't be dangerous, but we can't let this opportunity slip by. I'm currently feeding the turians false reports to give you more time, but they'll send their own ships out to investigate soon. You're close enough to get in and out before they know anything.”

“You sure the information is good?”

“Information is my weapon. It's good.”

“Send the coordinates.”

“Already sent. Once you're aboard the ship, establish an uplink with EDI. She'll mine the data for any information on the Omega 4 Relay. Good luck.”

***

She wasn't in the lower compartment of Engineering. She wasn't in the observation deck with Samara or even in the mess, not that Jayne expected her to be where people could talk to her. She wasn't with Zaeed...but he knew where she was. Silently he pointed at the other end of Engineering, the cargo hold where the tank bred krogan still slept.

She found Jack sitting on the floor in front of the tank, knees drawn up to her chest, arms wrapped tightly around them. She was peering at the krogan, possibly remembering her time in cryo on Purgatory. Or just reliving the fight with Miranda and trying to cool off.

“You all right?”

“Back on Pragia, when that asshole was talking about batarian pirates, you froze up,” Jack said, ignoring her question. “What happened, when you were a kid?”

Jayne sighed and parked herself on a crate, far enough away that she wasn't encroaching on Jack's personal space, but near enough to keep her voice soft. “I was hardly a kid. Sixteen when it happened. The raid started at sunrise. The ships came over the horizon with the sun, blinding us to the numbers. My dad...he...he tried to hide me in the shed, but they caught up to us too quickly. They were herding us all like cattle, and I...I panicked. Sent out a blast of Throw without meaning to.”

“Did you know? Before it happened?”

“That I had biotic power? We knew, I'd been tested as a baby. My parents had passed through the Traverse on their way to the colony, so there'd been a good chance I was exposed in utero. At the time they didn't know much about how eezo worked, or why some people exposed to it got powers and some just got cancers. But it had never manifested before that, so it wasn't something I really ever thought about.”

She blew out a breath and forced herself to loosen her hands. Her fingers were gripping each other so tight it turned the prosthetics white. “Dad was just trying to protect me. They shot him dead in front of me and slapped a control implant on my head. I went down to my knees like a rock and couldn't move, couldn't look away from his body. The whole time they were butchering their way through the colony and I couldn't do a damn thing to stop it. The batarians said I was special, that I needed to be kept alive and unharmed, that that was the only way they'd get a good price for me.”

“You think they were gonna sell you to Cerberus?” Jack tilted her head, barely seeing over her shoulder.

“It's possible. Hell, it's probable.” She drew her knees up into her arms on the crate, mirroring Jack's pose. “I'd be a very different woman now. Probably a more permanently dead one.”

Jack snorted. “Ya think? How'd you get away?”

“The Alliance came. David Anderson rescued me, fostered me. Put me in Ascension, was with me every step of the way through my therapy. He was there when I graduated from basic and when I came home from Akuze. He sponsored me when I became an N7. He made me what I am today because he loved me.”

Jack sneered. “Is that why you did this for me now? That's some sappy ass shit, Shepard.”

Jayne smiled. “I know the importance of closure, Jack. You deserve to be whole.”

“I'm not good with gratitude.” She turned her head away, facing the tank once more as if it was easier to speak without meeting Jayne's eyes. “But thank you.”

“You're welcome.”

“Just don't get any ideas. I like you, it's why I haven't put a bullet in you. But let's leave it at that, okay?”

Jayne chuckled. “I think Garrus would have something to say about anything else anyway.”

“Hah! You may be right. Be almost worth it to ruffle his spiky jimmies.” Jayne couldn't help the snort that escaped her, but she saw Jack smile and decided it wasn't a bad thing, even if it was at Garrus's expense. They fell silent for a while, watching the series of lights on the tank blinking and keeping track of the sleeping krogan. Eventually, Jack asked, “So you gonna wake him up?”

“I haven't decided.”

“You should. Krogan make the best fighters. And you need someone else badass in case I get blown away.”

“I'm plenty badass myself, thank you.”

“Sure,” she scoffed. “Yeah, I guess you are. Seriously, though. What's stopping you?”

“Okeer's other tank bred krogan were insane. Mindless and uncontrollable. We have no way of knowing how this one will be.”

“Shepard, _all_ krogan are mindless and uncontrollable,” Jack retorted with scathing disdain. “That's nothing new.”

“Well, considering where we're headed, I might just.”

“Why, where we headed?”

“There's a Collector ship nearby. Turian scouts disabled it.”

“Did _he_ tell you that?”

“Yes.”

“I don't buy it, but whatever.”

“Not sure I buy it either, to be honest. Still, it's our best chance to get information on them. We have precious little to go on.”

Jack got to her feet, all limber grace as she turned to face her. “Shepard, wake the krogan. I don't give a shit if he's crazy. Fuck, _I'm_ crazy. We're gonna need him.”


	16. Defiled and Betrayed

The vessel was cavernous and almost organic. Hivelike. Pods hung from the distant ceiling, littered the floors and covered walls. Some oozed, some were husk dry...most were empty.

“Love what they've done with the place,” Garrus said, his voice tinny inside his helmet. “They easily have the room for whole colonies in here. Spirits, they're going to go after Earth next.”

“It's like an insect hive,” Grunt said gruffly. Jayne took that to mean the tank bred krogan was impressed. He didn't usually say anything at all, unless it was to disparage. It reinforced her own thoughts to hear him echo them.

EDI had already told her that this was the same ship they'd encountered on Horizon, and she kept a look out for the missing colonists. So far all they'd found were bodies. She didn't have high hopes for finding anyone alive as they moved through the immense ship. At length, they found a pod that was open but not empty. The Collector inside it was dead and no threat. Jayne still shuddered with revulsion, remembering what they could do in life.

“Were they experimenting on their own?” Garrus asked as Jayne scanned the console with her omni-tool.

“EDI, I'm uploading the data from this terminal. See if you can figure out what they were up to.”

“Data received, Commander,” EDI replied. “Analyzing.” There was a pause as EDI compiled and rearranged the data in her drives. Jayne heard the ship groan around them, like a living thing. She wondered briefly if this was what it was like being inside a Reaper, too. EDI's voice came back before she could go too far down that rabbit hole.

“The Collectors were running baseline genetic comparisons between their species and humanity.”

“Looking for similarities?”

“I have no hypothesis on their motivations. All I have are the preliminary results. They reveal something...remarkable. A quad strand genetic structure, identical to traces collected from ancient ruins. Only one race is known to have this structure: the Protheans.”

“My God,” Jayne said. “The Protheans didn't vanish. They're just working for the Reapers now. You remember, Garrus? Vigil said some planets were conquered, the populations taken as slaves.”

“I remember,” he said grimly. No wonder the Collectors had looked so familiar to her, and no wonder she hadn't been able to place them. Cloudy images and hazy memories were all she had of them, tucked into the beacons' messages.

“These are no longer Protheans, Shepard,” EDI continued. “Their genes show extensive signs of rewriting and manipulation. The Reapers have re-purposed them to suit their needs.”

“You'd think somebody would have picked up on this.”

“Who? You said all advanced life was wiped out,” Grunt said. She had to remind herself once again that the krogan might be young, but had been implanted with as much hereditary knowledge as she had been with the Cipher. He wasn't a fool by any means.

EDI spoke again. “No one has had an opportunity to study a Collector genetic code in this detail. I have already matched two thousand alleles to recorded fragments. This Collector likely descends from a Prothean colony in the Styx Theta cluster. But there are signs of extreme alteration. Three fewer chromosomes. Reduced heterochromatin structure. Elimination of superfluous 'junk' sequences.”

“What a horrible fate for a race so powerful,” Jayne said softly. Then she straightened and faced Garrus and Grunt. “Doesn't matter. They're working for the Reapers now, and we have to stop them. Let's get what we need before any Collectors come to salvage the vessel.”

Deeper and deeper they went, looking for the central command to upload all the data to EDI. So far they'd seen no life on board, and the AI theorized that the numerous pods attached on all sides had died when the ship lost power. Jayne wasn't sure she believed that – the Reapers had hibernated for fifty thousand years in dark space, after all – but as long as there were no life signs, she was willing to accept it.

“Commander,” Joker said suddenly, “you gotta hear this. On a hunch, I asked EDI to run another analysis on the ship.”

“I compared the EM profile against the data recorded by the original Normandy two years ago,” she said. “It was an exact match.”

“The same ship dogging me for two years? Way beyond coincidence.”

“Something doesn't add up, Commander,” Joker said. “Watch your back.”

“You too.”

***

“There, on the platform,” Garrus said. “Looks like a control panel to me.”

“Sure does,” Jayne replied.

She established the link with EDI and felt cold dread creep down her spine. They were very exposed in the heart of the vessel, and nothing could be seen, but still...the feeling wouldn't dissipate. Jayne had learned long ago to trust her gut. She kept her hands ready on her rifle.

“EDI, I'm setting up a bridge for you. See if you can get anything useful from the data banks.”

“Data mine in progress, Shepard.”

She had only the warning of Joker's, “Uh, that can't be good.”

The Collector ship _shivered_, throwing her and Garrus off balance. Grunt stayed on his feet, drawing his shotgun and looking around. In the vertical tubes that ran along the edges of the platform, plates were moving into new positions, clanking into place with shuddering precision.

“Joker? What happened?” she called into her comm.

“Major power surge. Everything went dark, but it's back up now.”  
“I managed to divert the majority of the overload to non-critical systems,” EDI said. “Shepard, it was not a malfunction. This was a trap.”

“I knew it.” She swung around, nodding to Garrus to get ready. “The ship's been in hibernation, just waiting for us to trigger it to wake. And we're too deep in to make a run for it.” The ship shuddered again and the platform began to rise of its own volition. “EDI, we could use some help here.”

“I'm having trouble maintaining connection. There is someone else in the system.” The platform came to a stop, several hundred feet higher than it had been. Another platform was shifting into view. Jayne ducked below the console to give herself cover and readied the Collector rifle. “Connection re-established. I need to finish the download before I can override any systems.”

“Don't dawdle,” Jayne snapped.

“I am simultaneously fighting Collector firewalls in over 8,000 nodes,” the AI responded drily. “I am tasked to capacity.”

Grunt proved Jack's point about being a good fighter as she and Garrus hung back, keeping out of range of the searing blasts from the Collectors' weapons. Several more platforms descended, forming a bridge throughout the open space. Each one brought with it a new contingent of Collectors to fight. Once it was over, EDI's blue orb popped up on the console.

“I have regained control of the platform, Shepard.”

“I knew you wouldn't let me down, EDI.”

“I always work at optimal capability.”

“Did you get what we needed?”

“I found data that would allow us to safely navigate the Omega 4 Relay,” the AI said as she moved the platform, flying them across the open cavern of the ship to a safer landing zone, preferably one closer to their shuttle so they could get the hell out of there. “I have also found the turian distress call that served as lure for this trap. The Collectors were the source. It is unusual.”

“Elaborate.”

“Turian emergency channels have secondary encryption. It is present, but corrupted in the message. It is not possible the Illusive Man would believe this distress call was genuine.”  
“How do you know?”

“I found the anomaly with Cerberus detection protocols. He wrote them.”

“He knew it was a trap?” Joker asked across the comms. “Why would he send us into a trap?”

“Who knows with him. We can question him once we're well away from here.”

“Not a good time to be optimistic about our chances, Jayne,” Garrus said.

“Commander,” Joker broke in, as if on cue. “We got another problem. The Collector ship is powering up. You need to get out of there before the weapons come online. I am _not_ losing another Normandy.”

“You heard him, haul ass!”

The trio took off running as EDI piped into her channel again. “I do not have full control of their systems, but I will do what I can. Sending coordinates for shuttle extraction.”

“See?” Garrus said dryly. “Told you you were too optimistic.”

She threw a determined look over her shoulder at him as they ran. “Stow it, Vakarian. Have I ever let you down?”

They slid into cover, readying themselves for an onslaught of husks and maybe more. “Only once,” he said, popping the heat sink of his sniper rifle next to her. “But I can't hold being spaced against you. Especially since I wasn't there to catch you.”

She looked at him in shock. She'd never guessed he held himself responsible for her death; the very idea of it was ridiculous. His presence wouldn't have prevented the Normandy from being blown up. If anything, he would have been one more person to worry about getting off safely. She pushed the thoughts away to focus back to the present. “You're here now, so don't get any ideas that we aren't walking out of here together.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

***

“We're out of time, Commander, time to move!” Joker announced, starting to sound frazzled at the edges.

They'd made it to the shuttle, the husks and beetle like Scions in pursuit. She pushed Garrus and Grunt aboard, covering them with pistol fire – all she had left.

“Jayne, c'mon!” Garrus called her. She turned her back on the racing creatures, ignoring every instinct she had to keep fighting and leapt the distance, taking his hand so he could haul her inside. The shuttle was already disembarking from the landing spot. They made it back to the SR-2, and she took off from the shuttle bay for the elevator without even removing her helmet. She could see Joker up in the CIC, his hands frantic on the controls.

“Go, go!” she cried as she ran. She slid to a stop behind his chair, watching the viewports intently. He pulled the ship away from the Collector vessel and began evasive maneuvers just as the brilliant yellow beam cut across the vacuum.

“I can't dodge this guy forever, EDI. Get us the hell out of here.”

“Specify a destination, Mr. Moreau.”

“For fuck's sake! Anywhere but here!” Joker shouted, exasperated and terrified.

“Engaging mass effect core,” EDI said and the ship bucked, slipping into an FTL corridor, leaving the Collector ship behind. The inertial dampeners kicked in seconds later, reverting the gravity back to standard with a stomach lurching sensation, like an elevator's sudden stop.

“Good work, Joker,” Jayne said, popping the seal of her helmet and removing it. In silence he took her hand and squeezed. For a moment they shared the fear and the relief of escaping. He hadn't lost the ship, and they were both safe. “Back to business as usual,” she said, cracking a smile. He echoed it and let her go. “Fire up the QEC. I have some words for the Illusive Man.”

“Aye aye, Commander.”

***

“Shepard, looks like EDI extracted some interesting data before the Collector ship came back online,” the Illusive Man said as soon they were visible to each other.

“You lying sack of shit!” she spat back. “You set us up and you better have a damned good reason for it.”

He gave her a look that she supposed was meant to convey a sense of disappointment that she was so shortsighted and dense. “We needed information on the Omega 4 relay,” he said. “That required direct access to Collector data. It was too good an opportunity to pass up.”

“I don't even want to know how you managed it. And while we got what we needed, you put us _all_ at unnecessary risk.”

“I put you at risk, yes. But without that information we don't reach the Collector homeworld and you and every other human may as well be dead. It was a trap, but I was confident in your abilities. And don't forget EDI. The Collectors couldn't have anticipated her.”

“You could have told me the plan. You say I'm important, but you try awful hard to get me killed.”

“I needed the Collectors to believe they had the upper hand. Telling you could have tipped them off in any number of ways. Besides, I wouldn't have sent you in if I didn't think you could succeed.”

“You have one job – information. If I can't trust your intel, you're useless to me.”

“It's never that simple. You of all people should know that.” There was a warning there that she knew she should parse, but she was too angry to spend energy on it. She also knew screaming at a hologram wasn't going to change anything.

“I know that I'll be a lot more careful. With the Collectors and with you.”

He waved off her concern and went back to his cigarette. “EDI confirmed our suspicion. The Reapers and Collectors use an advanced Identify Friend/Foe system that the relays recognize. All we need to do is get our hands on one of those IFF's.”

“Oh, you mean like one that was probably on the ship where I just nearly got killed?”

“EDI only just now confirmed it,” he said in a placating manner. She stared him down. “You wouldn't have had time to find and extract it at this location anyhow. But we have options. An Alliance science team recently determined that the Great Rift on Klendagon is actually an impact crater from a mass accelerator weapon. A very old one. I sent a scout team to find either the weapon or its target. They found both. The weapon was defunct, but it helped us plot the flight path of the target. A 37 million year old Reaper, trapped in the gravity of a brown dwarf. It has a mass effect field that keeps it in orbit, likely an automated response to the external threats. It's stable, but I wouldn't call it safe.”

“Another trap?”

“Shepard.” He blew smoke in her direction, but of course she didn't smell or feel it. He made a face full of hurt at her lack of trust, but she was never going to buy that look again. “We lost contact with our team shortly after they boarded. It was too risky then to commit more resources to find out what happened, but now we need that IFF. I'll forward the coordinates to Joker. In the meantime, I suggest you tell your crew I didn't risk their lives unnecessarily. It will make things easier going forward.”

“I have no reason to make things easier for you,” she countered. “You put me, and my crew, in this position. You'll own the consequences of it.” She backed out of the QEC before he could reply. She didn't care. “Joker, take us to the Citadel. I have business to take care of before we go on a wild goose chase.”

“Aye aye, Commander.”


	17. When You Know Someone

“How do you want to play this?” Jayne asked Garrus as they landed on the upper balcony overlooking the Orbital Lounge. Tracking down Harkin hadn't been hard, once they knew he was 'Fade', but restraining Garrus's temper had. He hadn't killed Harkin, but the shot he took was still uncharacteristically aggressive. Well, it was for the Garrus she once knew. She had to remind herself yet again that _that_ turian had disappeared under Archangel's mask. He didn't seem likely to return to her.

Now they were here, sitting in a skycar parked in Zakera Ward, and she worried she wasn't going to be able to stop him no matter what she said or did. Revenge she understood. Cold blooded murder, however...

She knew that was a guaranteed ticket to a dark place. She'd gone there herself, and he should remember that too. After Feros, and the dispassionate way she'd killed that ExoGeni manager, she'd been inconsolable. Garrus had been the one to force her to eat and drink and _live_. She wrestled with whether or not she wanted to see her lover exact vengeance this way. She didn't know if she could bring him back from that abyss on her own. Not with everything else piled on her shoulders. She recalled the message one of the widows of his fallen team had sent her, to take care of him, to not let him feel so much guilt over what happened. It all felt impossible right now.

“I can get a good shot from there,” he replied to her question, pointing off to their right where the shadows were deepest. Behind them, Jack was quiet. “I'll signal you when I'm ready. Keep him talking until I do.”

“You don't have to go through with this, you know,” she said gently. He turned to her, his face set in stone.

“What would you do if someone betrayed you?”

“I don't know. I _do_ know that I wouldn't kill them in cold blood.”

“I'm not you, Jayne. I have to see this through.”

“I just...I hope you know what you're doing.”

“I appreciate your concern,” he said in a dismissive manner and her chest suddenly hurt as if she'd been shot. He opened the door of the skycar, turned away from her. “I have to set up.”

She and Jack took the back stairs down to the bar level, leaving Garrus behind to get into a sniper's position. A ball of anxiety set up shop near her throat, blossoming from the pain that his callous disregard of her worry had lodged in her. She didn't dare look at Jack to see what expression the young woman wore. She was sure Jack could see his side of things, especially since Jayne herself had helped the young woman get her vengeance on Pragia. But this was different. Wasn't it?

This was _Garrus_. C-Sec Officer. Stalwart upholder of justice. This wasn't the man she lo...

“Is that him?” Jack asked, pointing out the lone turian sitting on a bench outside the bar, his face shadowed and his hands twitchy in his lap. Jayne felt a bit like she was drowning. _Slick and viscous, like oil_. She gave herself a mental shake, dispelling the memory of the void space. She didn't need that kind of interruption.

“Must be,” she managed.

“Jayne, do you read me?” Garrus asked into her commlink.

“I read you.”

“I'm almost ready.”

“Copy that.” It was showtime.

***

“Lantar Sidonis?” she asked. The tired looking turian turned to her and his eyes widened in shock.

“You're...I know who you are. He...he had a holo of you...I saw it once. He said you were dead.”

“I got better,” she said with a slight shrug, battling to keep her wits about her. “If you know who I am, then you know who I'm with.”

Sidonis seemed to deflate, all fight gone from him. “He's here, isn't he? To kill me?” He shook his head. “I should let him. I don't know why thinking I could outrun what I did was going to help.”

“Why did you do it, Lantar? Why?”

He looked at her, but he wasn't seeing her. She wondered if the faces of those lost to the mercs flew by in his mind's eye as his expression turned anguished, mandibles slack and eyes distant. The slightest subvocal keen reached her ears. She shook her head and sighed internally. He was pitiful. Piti_able_. She hadn't known how she would react seeing the man responsible for all of Garrus's teams' deaths face to face. She had wanted to turn Garrus from this course of vengeance, but now...? Now she wasn't sure if it wouldn't be a mercy to let him do it, no matter how she felt about it.

“I can't escape their faces. I don't sleep. Food has no taste. They threatened to kill me, you know? Those mercs. I thought...I don't know what I thought.” He slumped against the bar and Jayne heard Garrus come online in her comm.

“I'm in position,” he said.

“I wish saying I was sorry was enough. But I know it's not. I was afraid...and I just wanted to save myself. I'm a coward. And I've had to live with that.”

Jayne knew Garrus could probably hear Sidonis through the comms and wondered if he was still going to go through with it. She cocked her head, as if she would see him over her shoulder. She knew she wouldn't, but he would see her. Could she stay in the line of his shot? Did she really have the right to? Could she really let this happen, knowing what it would do to him, to _them_? Was she overthinking this, making more out of it than there was to be had? No one would miss this turian, no one would care. In a cosmic sense, one more death was nothing.

But it was also everything if she allowed herself – or anyone else within her sphere of influence – to be led by vengeful anger. She felt like she was on the precipice of a great decision that would change who she was, even as she recognized that it was ultimately ridiculous to balance such a small thing against the weight of the dread that was coming. She had bigger worries than the life of one scared and weak-willed turian.

“You're in my shot, Jayne. Move to the side.”

“You could keep running,” she said casually, staying where she was. She heard Garrus hiss in her ear, but she knew what she was doing. Well, she hoped she did anyway. _Last chance to bail_, she thought.

Sidonis nodded. “Yeah, I could. But why bother? If Archangel is here to kill me, I should embrace what I deserve. Isn't that what they do, archangels? They punish the wicked?”

“Look at him, babe,” she said. It was all or nothing time; she'd done the best she could. She stepped away from the line of the shot. “He's already dead, his body just hasn't noticed. Living with what you've done can be as much punishment as dying for it.” She wasn't even sure which one of them she was speaking to. Both, she supposed. She heard the small sigh escape Garrus through the comm and knew he'd made his choice. “There's nothing left here of the man you wanted to kill. But it's your call.”

There was a moment of silence, with only the skycars and background bar noise to fill in the spaces. Then,“Tell him...tell him to get out of here. I never want to see his face again.”

She leaned in towards Sidonis, relief making her almost giddy. “He's giving you a second chance. Don't fuck it up.”

“Thank you, Garrus,” Sidonis said. “I'll...I'll try to make it up to you someday.”

“Go on, get going.” Jayne waved him away, the relief short-lived as a new worry grew in the pit of her stomach. She and Garrus had never fought, never argued over the merits of good and evil. Their time together on the SR-1 was cut so crystal clear. Now they had both been through too much to ever see the thin line the same way again.

And he wasn't her Garrus anymore. He was Archangel.

***

“I know you want to talk right now, but...I don't. Not yet.” She stood next to the rented skycar and wished she didn't want to twiddle her fingers like Tali used to do when she was nervous. But she would stand by her decision to talk him out of it. She just hoped he would see why. _I won't compromise who I am to satisfy your desire to destroy yourself_, she thought.

“All right,” she said aloud, straightening her spine and preparing for the worst. But he didn't say anything more, just started pacing. He'd already packed up his sniper kit and stowed it. She watched him go back and forth, seeing the tussle of emotions on his face. She was glad Jack had told her to go talk to him alone, that she would meet them back at the ship. She'd almost looked sympathetic about it. That didn't make Jayne feel any better. “Give it time.”

“Uh huh.” He stopped and looked at her, scorn radiating from his plates. He took a breath, visibly willing himself to keep control over his bubbling frustration. “I need to know I did the right thing. Not just for me...for my team. They deserve to be avenged. You shouldn't have interfered!” She braced herself as his primary finger pointed in her face, and he saw it. He backed away from her, losing some of the angry lines in his posture. He sighed and couldn't meet her eyes anymore. “But when you stepped out of the shot...I just couldn't do it.”

“The line blurs when it's someone you know.” _You wanted me to give you permission to become a monster, _she wanted to say._ I can't do that. I couldn't ever do that. I can't afford to lose you now, I need you too much._

“It's so much easier to see the world in black and white,” he went on. “Gray? I don't know what to do with gray.” She resisted the urge to comfort him. He was still angry with her. He might know in his head that he'd done the right thing, but he wasn't anywhere near ready to admit it, or her part in it.

He'd asked her help him with this. He had to have known what that help would entail. She'd _always_ tried to chose the path of peace. Maybe he'd forgotten that, like so many other things he'd forgotten about the people they were before death had torn them apart. The reminder had come at a higher price than she wanted, but she'd stand by it. The invisible schism between them right now would only diminish with time to reflect. She couldn't push him any further, not when it was so raw.

“Don't be too hard on yourself. No one knows what to do with gray.” She spoke softly, barely loud enough to conquer the sounds of the traffic, but he flared a single mandible, acknowledging that he heard her.

“All right, Jayne. Let's get out of here. I need some distance from this place.”

***

That night, he didn't come to the Loft for the first time since the night they'd chased each other in the hangar. She sat in the middle of the big, empty bed and stared into the darkness. She didn't sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be taking a break from posting until after New Year's. Wishing all you dear readers health, wealth and joy in the holiday season, and see you on the flipside!


	18. Troubles and Doubts

Something was wrong with Grunt, and while Dr. Chakwas was good, she didn't know enough about the krogan to do anything for him. They needed to go to Tuchanka anyway, so she'd had Joker plot a course. Jayne was fatigued and cranky, not the best state to deal with krogan warlords. Well, not if they wanted to get anything done and get out in one piece. Grunt deserved her at her best in order to figure out what was going on with him. She directed Joker and EDI to head out into the system around Aralakh to mine. That would give her another day to rest.

And that night, she dreamed of Mindoir for the first time in nearly ten years.

She couldn't move, couldn't even close her eyes. Her father lay dead on the ground in front of her, blood seeping into the earth as flies settled on his face. She could hear the sounds of the capture of her neighbors and the pillaging and destruction of their homes, mixed up in her mind with the liquid digital sounds of geth and the chitter of the Collectors. The dream shifted, turning airless and dark, the stars wheeling around her as she flailed hopelessly, caught in the gravity well of the planet below. She screamed, but no sound came out.

“_Shepard...we see you_...”

The voice broke through the dream, shattering her mind's imagery and replacing it with the vague shadow of a Reaper. She bolted upright and saw the stars above through the skylight of her cabin. She screamed again, her half asleep mind momentarily unable to register that she was safe in her bed and not hurtling through space with only the barrier of her hardsuit to protect her from the vacuum. She was frantic for air, twisted in the blankets and struggling to orient herself. She landed on the cabin floor with a thud, knocking her head on the side table and waking EDI from her sleep mode.

“Is everything all right, Shepard?” the AI asked. Jayne stayed there, on her hands and knees, desperately trying to slow her breathing so she could count it. “Commander? You are in distress. Should I alert Dr. Chakwas?”

“No,” she gasped. “I'm fine, EDI. Just...it was just a nightmare.”

“Are you certain you don't wish me to call someone?”

“I'm certain. Thanks, EDI, that'll be all.”

“Logging you out, Shepard.” The blue ball of EDI's icon winked out, leaving the cabin dimmer with only the fish tank for light. She managed to get off the floor, untangling herself from the blankets, and sat on the edge of the bed. She looked around her cabin and saw the sphere of the Prothean relic drop back to the table. Why had it been in midair? All their readings said it was inert. Not for the first time she wondered if it had been a mistake to follow the leads of Project Firewalker to find it.

She shook her head and let it drop into her hands. She recalled her therapy sessions, the tools she'd honed to cope with these things. Tactics she hadn't needed since being with Garrus. Eventually she fell back into the bed, curling up around one of his pillows. She made a mental note to get that _thing_ out of her quarters at the first opportunity. And she slept.

***

Tuchanka was arid and hot, the air choked with dust and radioactivity. They could barely see out of the front view port of the shuttle. A column opened up in the ground, and the shuttle dropped into it, landing on a platform elevator that took them deep underground. They exited the shuttle into a loading area, surrounded by krogan with their varrens around them. She spotted Blood Pack armor and stiffened, but the hulking figure didn't speak to them. Ahead, two guards were waving them up a flight of stairs.

“The warlord wants to see you,” one said gruffly, clearly disdainful of their presence. Jayne ignored it and went through the cycling airlock style door. “You're lucky. If it was up to me you'd be varren food already. You and that whelp.”

Jayne raised an eyebrow but didn't comment.

Grunt growled around him as they walked through the crumbling ruins of the underground lair of the Urdnot clan. He muttered about how it was a disgrace to see the monuments of once famous krogan heroes fall to dust. Jayne was too tired and worn out to do more than just listen to his ramblings. On her other side, Mordin walked fearlessly among the krogan, daring to meet their glares with a mild gaze that was nonetheless undaunted.

She would have brought Garrus, but he claimed he had calibrations to do – in the briefest way possible, to boot – so she left him to it. She didn't know if he was still angry at her over Sidonis, or if he felt more in danger among the krogan than he wanted to admit. Either way, his absence stung and she was moody about it.

_I don't know why he was surprised, I didn't let him kill Dr. Saleon either_, she thought with a quick shake of her head. Looking up between the guards blocking her way broke her from her negative thoughts.

The Urdnot warlord sat on a literal pile of stone, the red of his head plate visible from the ground. Scars bisected it, and his face, giving him a rakish look as he argued with another krogan. Familiar shark's teeth gleamed in a sudden grin, a grin that she echoed, feeling her stress start to slide down her back like water. He pushed aside the other krogan and stood up.

“Wrex,” she breathed, tears pricking her eyes.

“Shepard!” he bellowed, his voice bouncing off the stone. He looked joyful to see her, if a krogan could look joyful outside of battle. He clambered down from his throne and roughly shuffled the guards out of his way. He hefted her into his arms, squeezing her abruptly enough to make her teeth clack together. He put her down and looked her over, his huge head tilting to the side. “You look like shit.”

“Nice to see you too,” she wheezed, following him up the pile of stone.

“I knew the void couldn't hold you, pyjak,” Wrex said, retaking his seat on the throne. “What brings you here?”

Jayne nodded towards Mordin and Grunt. “A couple of things.”

“I heard about the Normandy. What happened?”

“Surprise Collector attack. I got spaced.”

“Ah, the benefits of redundant nervous systems.”

“Humans don't have those, Wrex,” she said in a reminding tone.

“Huh, must have hurt then. Makes sense then, you looking so...” He paused, and she wondered what he was planning to say before he realized they were the center of attention. He grinned instead. “I like the scars.”

_Krogan_. “Of course you do.”

“Who's the whelp?”

“I am Grunt,” the young krogan said.

“What is your clan?” Wrex emphasized.

“I have none. I was tank bred by Warlord Okeer, distilled from the lines of Kredak, Moro, Shiagur.”

The other krogan – the one Wrex called Uvenk – pushed against Grunt with contempt. “You recite warlords, but you are the offspring of a syringe.”

“I am pure krogan,” Grunt said simply. Of course, then he flexed his quad, to Jayne's amusement. “You should be in awe.”

Wrex caught her eye and his face grew serious. “Okeer is a very old name. A very..._hated_ name.”

“He is dead.”

Wrex chuckled at Grunt. “Of course he is. You're here with Shepard. I know how she is.”

“Something's wrong with him, Wrex. I need him back up to speed.”

The Warlord stood and looked Grunt over, stepping close enough to smell him. He shook his head. “There's nothing wrong with him. He's becoming a full adult. He must face his rite of passage.”

“No, you go too far!” Uvenk shouted. “This thing will never be true krogan, and you defile all our traditions if you allow it.” He strode away, angry.

“Idiot,” Wrex directed at the departing figure. He turned back to them. “So, Grunt, do you wish to stand with Urdnot?”

Grunt looked at her and she shrugged slightly. “This is your choice.”

“It's in my blood. It is what I am for.”

“Good boy,” Wrex said. “Speak with the shaman, he'll tell you what you need to know.” He went back to the pile of stone and lounged against it. “You said 'a couple of things', Shepard. Why else are you here?”

“I'm looking for a salarian by the name of Maelon. He was taken by the Blood Pack and brought here.”

Wrex nodded. “My scout commander can direct you. He's over there, running some target practice. Just don't take too much of his time. I need him on the perimeter, keeping an eye on all these clans.”

“Understood.”

“Watch yourself, Shepard. Tuchanka isn't safe and homey like Feros and Ilos. Least not for humans.”

“Duly noted.” She stepped up to him on his throne, seeing the gleam in his ruby bright eye as she did. She leaned in and kissed his leathery cheek, hearing the onlookers grumble that she would take such liberties with their clan leader. “See ya round, pyjak.”

“That's my line,” he rumbled at her, but he was smiling.

***

She liked the truck. It reminded her of the ancient Jeep her father had used on Mindoir, battered and reeking of combustible fossil fuel. It drove well, handling the rough terrain that was the 'highway' between clan Urdnot's base and the hospital clan Weyrloc was housed in. The ride was silent, and for a moment she missed Garrus's steady presence so much it hurt. Arriving at the hospital distracted her, and fighting through the Blood Pack and their vorcha took her mind off things further.

“Repurposed krogan hospital,” Mordin said as they went down into the building. “Sturdy, built to withstand punishment.”

“I don't know if that relieves me or worries me,” Jayne muttered.

At the foot of the stairs a human lay sprawled on the floor. “Need to take a look,” Mordin said, kneeling down and passing his omni-tool over the body. “Sores, tumors, ligatures showing restraints at wrist and ankle. Track marks for repeated injection sites. Test subject. Victim of experimentation.”

“Any ID?”

“No tattoos or chips. Could be merc or slave. Irrelevant now. Clearly part of krogan tests to cure genophage. Humans useful as test subjects. Genetically diverse. Enables exploration of treatment modalities.”

“Testing on humans? Sounds like something Cerberus is famous for.”

“Never use humans myself,” Mordin went on, his voice spitting with contempt. “Disgusting, unethical, sloppy. Used by brute force researchers, not thinkers. No place in proper science.” He sniffed haughtily. “Krogan use of humans unsurprising.”

“I imagine you had to do _some_ testing of live subjects when you were working on the genophage.”

“No. Unnecessary. Limited tests to simulations, dead tissue samples. Cloned ones. High level tests on varren. No tests on species with members capable of calculus. Simple rule, never broke it.”

“What kinds of experiments were they were running?”

“Position of tumors suggests deliberate mutation of adrenal, pineal glands. Modifying hormone levels. Counterattack on glands hit by genophage. Clever.”

“Are they close to a cure?” She didn't mind the krogan curing the genophage, but she wasn't sure she wanted the clan that started the Blood Pack having it first. She could see what kind of mess that would make of things. She'd far rather put the cure in Wrex's hands.

“Need more data. Conceptually sound, though. Genophage alters hormone levels. Could repair damage with hormonal counterattack.”

“All right, let's find it then.”


	19. Old Deeds, Great and Terrible

The Weyrloc speaker confirmed her suspicions that the clan was planning to use a cure for the genophage to dominate the krogan, and conquer the rest of the galaxy. She felt no compunction about stopping them. She took some hard hits, but Mordin kept her stable enough while Grunt finished them off.

“Near labs,” Mordin said. “Can smell antiseptic, traces of dead flesh.”

“You make it sound so cheery,” she said sardonically. The salarian smiled at her as he applied Medi-gel to her neck where a Blood Pack member had shot her. He paused, fascinated by her nanobots. She healed faster than the Medi-gel alone would have managed. “Only good thing about it.”

“Many good things, Shepard,” he contradicted. “You are here, after all.”

“Thanks, Mordin.”

She accepted his hand up as she got to her feet and they collected Grunt and moved on. They found a working terminal – unexpected in the general deterioration of the building – and Mordin stopped, scanning it for more data.

“Genetic sequences. Hormone mutagens still steady. Protein chains, live tissue, cloned tissue. Very thorough. Standard treatment vectors. Avoiding scorched earth immunosuppresants to alter hormone levels. Good. Hate to see that.”

His flippant tone bothered her. “Most people wouldn't be so casual about developing a sterility plague, Mordin.”

“Not developing. _Modifying_. Much more difficult. Working within confines of existing genophage. A hundred times the complexity. Errors unacceptable. Could cause total sterility, malignant tumors. Could even reduce effectiveness. Worse than doing nothing. Had to keep krogan population stable. One in one thousand. Perfect target, optimal growth. Like gardening.”

“Are you saying you were working just as hard to keep the population from _falling_?”

“Yes,” he answered emphatically. “Could have wiped them out. Easy. Increased mutation to degrade genetic structure further. Chose not to. Rachni extinction tragic. Didn't want to repeat. All life precious. Universe demands diversity.”

Jayne had never considered it from that angle, and wondered how many other factors had been overlooked or ignored about the genophage by the galactic public. She knew her own bias against the genophage had colored her opinion of Mordin, but she had to admit, he made it sound far more intricate and careful than a broad bludgeoning weapon. “What was it like, working on this?”

“Best years of my life. Wake up with ideas. Talk over breakfast. Experiments all morning. Statistical analysis in the afternoon. Run new simulations during dinner, set data runs to cook overnight. Laughter. Ego. Argument. Passion. Galaxy's biggest problem, massive resources thrown at us. Got anything we wanted.”

“Do you keep in touch with any of your old team?”

“No.” He sounded sad about it. “All changed with deployment. Made test drop on isolated krogan clan. Hit the rest of Tuchanka when results were positive. End of project. Separate ways. Watching it end, seeing birth rates drop. Personal. Private. Not appropriate for team.”

“How'd you go from that to running a clinic on Omega?”

He gave her an inscrutable look before he answered, taking long enough that she was almost sorry she asked. “Wanted to heal people,” he said finally. “Good use of last decade. Something easy. No ethical concerns.” He looked away from her to Grunt. “Understandable rationale for modifying genophage. Right choice. Still...hard to sleep some nights.”

“How could you agree to using it? Look what happened to Tuchanka as a result.”

“State of Tuchanka not from genophage. Nuclear winter caused by krogan before salarian first contact. Krogan choices. Refused truce during rebellion. Expanded after rachni wars. Splinter after genophage. It was medical, not nuclear. No craters from virus.”

“The effects are still your doing, Mordin. You upgraded the virus that keeps them in barbarism.”

“Krogan committed war crimes, Shepard. Would not negotiate for peace. Turians did not defeat entirely. Krogan would have recovered, attacked again. Conventional war too risky, krogan forces too strong. Genophage was best option. Krogan forced it. Us or them. Won't apologize for winning. Would have preferred peaceful solution.”

“Peace is not our way,” Grunt said from his corner. Jayne had almost forgotten he was there, she'd been so intent on Mordin's words.

“So if Wrex has his way and unifies the krogan government, you'd welcome that?” she asked.

“Yes. United krogan defeated rachni, saved galaxy. Genophage not punishment. Simply alters fertility to correct for removal from hostile environment.”

Her mind spun with the implications, as well as the still far flung misconceptions of why the rachni had done as they had. Only she, Garrus and Wrex knew what Vigil had told them about the Reapers and their attempts to indoctrinate races in order to pave the way for their invasion. And she was certain that few others had ever thought about the rachni wars from the perspective that it had all been a cosmic misunderstanding stemming from said indoctrination. No one knew about the Reapers then. Hardly anyone believed now. It was mind boggling.

And not precisely helpful either.

“C'mon. We're not going to find Maelon standing here.”

***

The next room they entered had a dead krogan on a table. Mordin looked it over, reading through the datapad that had been left there.

“Female,” he said. “Tumors indicate experimentation. No restraint marks. Volunteer.” He walked around her, looking her over, his face drooping. “Sterile Weyrloc female willing to risk procedures. Hoped for a cure. Pointless waste of life.”

“I didn't expect you to get so upset about seeing a dead krogan.”

He backed away from her, shocked and angry. “What? Why? Because of genophage work? Irrelevant. No, _causative_. Never experimented on living krogan. Never killed with medicine. Her death not my work, only reaction to it. Goal was to stabilize the population. Never wanted this. Can see it logically...but...foolish waste of life. Hate to see it. Unnecessary.”

Something in his tone jarred. His anger wasn't directed at her. “How often have you seen it, Mordin? Did you come back to Tuchanka after...?”

He leaned against the table, his hands studiously relaxed near the body. When his eyes met hers, they were anguished, although his voice was even. “Yearly recon missions. Water, tissue samples. Ensure no mistakes. Superiors offered to do it. Refused. Had to see it through myself. Needed to look, to see. Accept it as necessary. See small picture, remember why I run a clinic on Omega.” He took a deep breath and stepped back from the table, passing his hand over the woman, his fingers bent in a gesture Jayne didn't recognize. “Rest, young mother. Find your gods. Find someplace better.”

“That was very spiritual.”

“Genophage modification project altered millions of lives. Then saw results. Ego, humility, juxtaposition. Frailty of life. Size of universe. Explored religions after work completed. Different races. No answers. Many questions.”

“Dealing with a guilty conscience, Mordin?” She tried, she really did, to keep a snide tone out of her voice, but wasn't sure she was successful. No matter what steps the salarians had taken to modify the genophage, the idea of it was still abhorrent to her.

“Project great in scope. Scientifically brilliant. But ethically difficult. Krogan reaction visceral, tragic. Not guilty, but _responsible_. Trained as doctor. Genophage affects fertility, doesn't kill. Still...caused this. Hard to see big picture behind pile of corpses.”

“Is it so easy for you to justify it?” she asked scathingly, giving up on any pretense of not being emphatically against everything the genophage had done.

“Wheel of life. Popular salarian concept. Similar to human Hinduism and reincarnation. Appealing to see life as endless. Fix mistakes in next life. Learn, adapt, improve.” He gave her a sad smile. “Refuse to believe life ends here. Too wasteful. Too much to do, to fix.”

“If you have to do this much soul searching about it, maybe that should tell you that the genophage was _wrong_.”

“Had to be done. Krogan rebellion, rachni wars. All signs pointed to their aggression. So many simulations done. All ended in war, extinction. Genophage or genocide. Choice for whole galaxy made. Countless data points, countless hours of debate, study. Expansion of krogan would cause inevitable collapse or conquer of other races. Genophage was better. Saved lives.”

Jayne felt anger burning through her. “You know, Mordin, you salarians have an astonishing amount of complacency about the genophage. You have the shortest lives of all the races, not even half a century, right? You don't have to live with the results of your creation year after year, day after day. For the krogan the genophage was only a few generations ago. It's not a distant memory to them.”

“Shepard...”

“No, I'm not finished. We humans are new to the Council, new to the galactic mix. Maybe that's why I can see it as genocide more clearly. Ya know, not too long ago, humans used punitive reproductive restrictions on our indigenous peoples as a way to control them. To make them no longer a _problem _after stealing all their land.” She sneered in disgust. “It only brought heartbreak and hostility. It was eventually deemed unethical on a global scale. Take a good look at this dead woman, Mordin. You didn't _save_ her. You didn't save _any_ of the women affected by the genophage. You've participated in condemning them. On Earth you'd be tried and convicted as a war criminal.”

She could tell he wanted to dismiss her, but then saw the rapid calculations going on in his head as he processed her words. Eventually he sighed and shook his head.

“Worked with available data. Only option. No other possible...” He sighed again as she walked away from him. None of this was anything either of them could change at that moment. Nor did it help them find Maelon. “Doesn't matter now.”

“It does if you take a stand and end it,” she tossed over her shoulder. Grunt made a noise. She couldn't tell if it was an agreement or not. She left the lab and kept moving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ended up having to do a whole lot of jiggery pokery with a bunch of these chapters (since I realized midway through that I wanted to completely rewrite and change things), so this one ended up a little short, comparatively. It was either that or post an absolute monster of a chapter covering all the events of Mordin's loyalty mission at once. Still, for all that, I feel like there's some significant dialogue here that I wish had been an option in the game. Everything about the genophage bothers me, on so many levels.
> 
> Let me know what you think, I love the feedback.


	20. The Blood On Our Hands

“_All life is merely life, Shepard,_ _ ” _the voice had said in her mind. She was remembering more and more of her time in death. The voice had made many good points, although she hadn't wanted to listen at the time_. “ _ _There is no moral right or wrong about it. Many things kill many other things on a regular basis. They do not feel such a thing as guilt_.”

_What do you even know about morals, eh?_

She remembered another snippet, from another moment when the voice had questioned her about guilt and morals.

“_There are always the powerless_,” it had said. “_There are always those who serve. The galaxy has always been thus_.”

_That doesn't make it right. That doesn't mean I can't fight it_.

“_To what end, Shepard_?”

_To the very end_, she'd vowed.

“The very end,” she whispered to herself as she and Mordin and Grunt worked their way through the Weryloc base, searching for Maelon. To her, attitudes towards the genophage were no different than the voice: cold, uncaring, dispassionate. Ultimately, that mindset would destroy more than it saved. It was self-serving, no more. Already she'd been forced to make a decision that destroyed a cure because it was only going to be exploited by the wrong hands. She felt like that was happening again. And she hated it.

***

The next room they found had a living krogan in it, but he was weak and sickly, slumped on the floor and staring at them with pitiful eyes from within the shadow of his hump. “You killed the Blood Pack guards,” he said.

Mordin assessed the krogan and sniffed. “Not Blood Pack, not Weyrloc. Wrong clan markings.”

“I'm an Urdnot scout. Weryloc guards caught me, brought me here.”

“The chief said to keep an eye out for you,” Jayne said. “We've taken out the guards. Get back to the Urdnot.”

“I can't,” he said. “They did things to me. Drugs, injections. They said I was sacrificing for the good of all krogan. Experiments to cure the genophage. Everything's blurry. Hard to think. Have to stay.” He gave them a harder stare, his eyes focusing for a moment. “They're curing the genophage. I have to stay. They need to run more tests.”

“Caution, Shepard. Patient unstable. Brainwashed.”

“I can see that,” she murmured. She turned back to the scout. “Why do you want them to keep doing the tests?”

“This is my fault. I got caught. I wasn't good enough, wasn't strong enough. Now...this is all I can do. I'm not big enough to have a real shot with women. I'll never have kids of my own. But if I help undo the genophage, then I mattered!”

“Millions of children will be born if they succeed. Weyrloc children.”

“But, no...they said I was helping Urdnot.”

Jayne knelt down to eye the krogan at his own level. “If you really want to help Urdnot, you'll get back to them. It would take a real badass to return to the camp while injured.”

“I can do it,” the scout protested.

“You? I said a badass, not a scout whining like a quarian with a bellyache.” She suppressed a grin as the krogan scout stood up, shaking off the lethargy of the drugs they'd given him.

“I can do it. Look, I'm up. And I'm going to go to the female camp.”

“Damn right you are. Now get out there and show them what you're worth.”

“Nicely done, Shepard,” Mordin said after the scout left.

She smirked and looked at Grunt, who gazed back at her with new respect. “It's all about getting under their plates.”

***

Weyrloc Guld went down in a flailing heap of fire. Jayne stood over the body and watched it burn, a satisfying wash of anger flowing out of her. She could tell Grunt was happy as he sang ancient songs that had to have been implanted into his memory. She remembered when Wrex would sing in battle, and it brought a smile to her face, thinking of this tank grown krogan becoming part of her beloved friend's clan. They would be well matched, Wrex and Grunt. She wouldn't want to ever have to come between them in an argument.

With the remnants of clan Weyrloc defeated, the way was clear for them to reach the basement, where Maelon most likely was being kept. She could only hope this fight had been worth all the trouble. The final door slid open and she saw the salarian working at an enormous vidscreen.

“Maelon. Alive, unharmed,” Mordin said, surprised. “No signs of restraint. No evidence of torture. Don't understand.”

Maelon turned to face them and Jayne saw that he was younger than Mordin, his skin still firm and smooth, his movements less deliberate. “For such a smart man, Professor, you've always had trouble seeing evidence that disagreed with your preconceptions. How long will it take you to admit that I'm here because I wish to be?”

“He wasn't kidnapped,” Jayne said. “He came here voluntarily to work on curing the genophage.”

“Impossible! Whole team agreed. Project necessary.”

“How was I supposed to disagree with the great Doctor Solus? You were our teacher, we looked up to you!”

“Experiments performed here. Live subjects. Prisoners and executions? Torture? Your doing?”

“We've already got the blood of millions on our hands, Professor. If it takes a bit more to put it right, I can deal with that. The experiments are monstrous, because I was taught to be a monster.”

“No,” Mordin said, his voice hard. “I didn't teach you this.”

“So your hands are clean. What does it matter if the ground is soaked in the blood of others? You taught me that the ends justified the means. I will undo what we did, Professor. The only way I know how.”

“But the genophage isn't fatal,” Jayne said. She pushed away the voice that wanted to agree with Maelon. What they'd seen here in the hospital couldn't be justified as being for the greater good. It was more exploitation for the wrong reasons.

“Krogan fight over fertile females. They become mercenaries or pirates because they don't see any alternative. They would be thriving in a cultural renaissance now had we not decided that this is what they deserved!”

“Inaccurate!” Mordin snapped. “Krogan population explosion resulted in war. Simulations were clear.”

“We justified this atrocity by saying the krogan would cause havoc and war if their population recovered. But look at the galaxy! Batarian attacks in the Traverse, geth attacking the Citadel. Is this a more peaceful universe? The assault on Eden Prime might never have happened if we had let the krogan recover. We'll never know.”

“How would a krogan population explosion have done anything to stop Saren and the geth?” she asked, baffled.

Maelon looked at her with overly forced patience, as if he was explaining to a child. “An increased krogan population would have forced the Council to take steps, likely involving colony rights in the Traverse. The turian fleets would have remained vigilant for any military activity in the area. They might have stopped the geth at Eden Prime.”

“Supposition,” Mordin argued. “Impossible to know for certain.”

“Don't you see? We tried to play god, and we failed. I'm going to fix it.”

“How did you even get access to the data?” Jayne asked.

“Access was simple. We all still had clearance. I just had to ask for it. I worked with the Weyrloc because they had the resources and commitment.”

“Why not clan Urdnot? They're bigger and stronger.”

“Urdnot Wrex is too soft. He wasn't willing to do the experiments I needed. That is his clan's loss. Clan Weyrloc will be the first to recover from the crime we committed.”

“He obviously doesn't need rescuing, Mordin. What do you want to do?”

“Have to end this.”

Maelon suddenly pointed a pistol at his old Professor. “You can't face the truth can you? That your brilliant mind led to you commit an atrocity!”

Mordin stepped into Maelon's wildly swinging arms and punched him in the face, knocking him backwards against the vidscreen and scooping up the pistol the younger salarian dropped all in one movement. He held it to his student's head. “Unacceptable experiments,” he said, vibrating with rage. “Unacceptable goals. Won't change. No choice, have to kill you.”

She couldn't face it again, the prospect of a companion – a friend, no matter how much she hated what he'd done – killing in cold blood. She grabbed Mordin's arm, surprised by the steely strength he had as the pistol barely wavered from Maelon's head. “Wait. You don't have to do this. You're not a murderer.”

It was almost like watching a lightbulb go off, the change that came over him. “No, not a murderer,” Mordin whispered. “Thank you, Shepard.” He stepped back and tucked the pistol into his side holster. “Finished, Maelon. Get out. No Weyrloc left. Project over.”

“You aren't worried I won't just start over with another clan?” Maelon asked, his voice trembling.

“No, locking this unit. Special Tasks Group will cut access to old data, cover up any details leaked to public. Could start from scratch. Take decades, though. I didn't teach you everything I know.” His stance changed with the change in his speech, different from his usual fast paced staccato. Jayne thought he almost looked cocky and wondered if it was an act to bluff the younger salarian or if he was right to be that proud of his work, regardless of the outcome.

“Where am I supposed to go, Professor?” Maelon said, defeated and broken.

“Don't care. Try Omega. Could always use another clinic.” He turned his back on his former student and began locking down the vidscreen. Maelon gave them all a final dirty look, but began to run when Grunt stepped away from the wall, appearing out of the shadows like a hulking wraith. “Apologies, Commander.”

“For what?”

“Misunderstood mission parameters. No kidnapping. My mistake. Thank you.”

“Are you all right?”

“Should have killed him. Wanted to. Easier than listening. Easier for him too. Experiments indicate how far he's fallen. Expected it from krogan. Not one of mine.”

“Maybe you'll remember that the next time you want to discuss the ethics of the genophage.”

“Yes. So many variables. Stress responses. Impossible to fully predict. Something to think about.” He looked up at the screen, watching the images and data flow past. “Maelon's research only loose end. Should destroy it. Closure, security. Might be useful, though. Worked for years to create modified genophage. Maelon's work could find cure. Effects on krogan. Effects on galaxy. Too many unknowns. Too many variables.”

“Saving the data doesn't mean you ever have to use it, Mordin,” Jayne said softly, the first stirring of hope in her mind. Maybe finally they'd gather the pieces to fix this the _right_ way. “Better to know where it is, and have it but not need it, than to need it and have it be gone.”

“Point taken. Capturing data, wiping local copy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, I have too many feelings about this mission. I hate everything about the genophage, and wanted to hate Mordin too for his part in it. But he's just so damned likable. I'm glad he eventually sees the errors of his ways, and that the game allows him to redeem himself.


	21. By Hook Or By Crook

Wrex had set her up in his own home, a deeply buried holdfast in the belly of the compound. Mordin had gone back to the SR-2 and Grunt was preparing for his rite of passage with the shaman. She'd volunteered herself into doing it with him, requesting Jack's presence as well. She understood at least a little what being his krantt meant, and she didn't take it lightly. Oddly enough, neither had Jack. They'd been fed in deference to their weak human stamina, but she was on her own other than that. Night was falling on Tuchanka and there in the furthest reaches of the camp, it was growing quiet. Jack had found herself something to occupy the hours until they were set to leave for the rite. Jayne felt a bit like a worried mother hen, then scoffed at herself for feeling that way. Jack was more than capable of handling herself among the krogan.

She was certain these were Wrex's own quarters, and not a guest area, when she saw the armor she'd helped him take back. He'd displayed it behind glass, the plating cracked and unpolished, but still formidable. The colors were faded and worn, but distinct. She recognized the clan markings she'd seen him inscribe into his guns. A thread of some battle hymn he used to hum under his breath in the bay of the Normandy went through her head. _Good times_, she thought. _Simpler times_.

“Can't believe my ancestors went to war in that,” she heard him say as he entered the room and saw her there.

“When the krogan were mighty,” she teased, earning herself a glare...and a grin.

“The likes of which we haven't seen since.” He stopped and stood next to her, looking down at her from his great height. “Speaking of which, I saw my scout returned. What did you find out there?”

“The Weyrloc hired Mordin's former colleague to cure the genophage for them. The way he was doing it...” She sighed and Wrex nodded.

“You know I want the genophage eradicated, but not like that. There are the horrors we inflict upon each other in the name of battle, but the horrors we inflict for the sake of knowledge...”

“That's a wiser Wrex than I knew before.”

He waved off her comment. “You once asked me why there were no krogan scientists working on it. That's why. No point if all your test subjects end up mutilated and dead. I know how keenly you feel the realities of the genophage. You're what, the third generation?”

She eyed him, remembering conversations in the cargo bay of the SR-1, where they talked about their relative similarities when it came to reproductive stricture. Not many knew that part of Jayne Shepard's family history. Wrex only knew because she'd told him. “Fourth,” she said.

“I've had a lot of time to think about what I want to do about it. Someday, you and I will change this galaxy.”

She smiled. “I hope so.”

Wrex moved away from her, tossing casually over his shoulder, “So tell me what's going on between you and Garrus.”

“What do you mean?”

“Don't be coy. His smell is on you, but it's old. You say you were dead, and he disappeared. Tuchanka may be outside Council space, but we aren't entirely cut off from 'civilization', as you would probably put it.” She gave him a look that was equal parts sheepish and amused. He chuckled, still aware that he knew her so well. “Now you're here and he isn't. You called in a pint sized whelp with more attitude than sense instead. What happened?”

“He became Archangel.” She took a seat – hard and uncomfortable until Wrex threw a massive pillow at her – and she waited for her old friend to react. She smiled at his description of Jack, knowing it would have driven the young woman nuts to hear it. Still, it seemed the krogan appreciated Jack's...unique personality. “And you'll like Jack. She's got more biotic punch than you do.”

“Hmm. Archangel, huh, no shit? Didn't think Garrus had it in him. We've heard tales even here about Archangel. Mostly from Blood Pack, so I never put much stock in them. But that's impressive for such a stick up the ass turian.”

“He was betrayed by one of his own.”

“Ahh, and he wanted revenge, didn't he?”

“Yes, he did.”

“Good kid. Did you let him have it, or did you weaken at the last moment and talk him out of it?”

“I...”

Wrex looked disgusted and threw another pillow at her, this one smaller. “You talked him out of it. Shepard, when will you understand that sometimes ruthlessness isn't a bad thing?”

“There is always a better way.”

“Better for who? You or him?” He gave her his wisest stare, and she was reminded once again how much older Wrex was than anyone she'd ever known. He'd seen too many years go by to still have any softness remaining in him, and yet..it was there, always behind his rough edges and harsh words. He still had compassion, locked away behind the armor around his heart.

“Okay, fine, you have a point. But c'mon Wrex. It would have destroyed him to kill in cold blood. Eventually he would have seen himself as no better than the criminals he's spent his life stopping.”

“I guess that's fair.” He got up and poured himself a drink, shaking the bottle at her in question. She shook her head. She knew better than to drink krogan alcohol. Even her multitude of enhancements would be hard pressed to deal with that. “So, now he's pissed and stopped talking to you, right?”

“Basically. He's on the ship, wouldn't come with me to the surface.”

“Let me guess, too busy tinkering with something.”

“Calibrating the Thanix cannon.”

“Hah! Some things never change. The hours I spent watching him dig himself out from under the Mako...” He trailed off, sipping his ryncol and looking off into the middle distance. “How is the new ship, anyway?”

“It's good, quite a bit bigger,” she said with a laugh. “Joker is the same as always, hates the AI, although I think he's faking it.”

“You have an AI on your ship, Shepard?” He shook his head. “That's dangerous. Ask the quarians.”

“EDI isn't truly an AI. At least...I don't think she is. She's hobbled by her programming, and she's mostly there for defense. Granted, being a Cerberus installment, there's a lot about her that's classified, even from herself. I guess she could be the real thing and just doesn't know it.”

“Cerberus,” he growled. He sat down opposite from her, seemingly at ease on the rock hard furniture. “Tell me about that.”

“Not my choice, if that's what you're asking. They...rebuilt me.”

“They're funding your mission, right?”

“Yes. No one else is stopping the Collectors, or even knows that much about them, for that matter.”

“But Cerberus does? Doesn't that strike you as being suspicious?”

“Oh yes. It does. But...” she shrugged. “What can I do? The Council reinstated my Spectre status, but gave me no resources. The Alliance cut me off, listed me as dead. My only link to anything remotely organized and powerful is one highly deadly asari who was just as happy to see me off her station as I was to leave it.”

“Aria T'Loak?”

“Does word just get around some way that I don't know, or have you had dealings on Omega yourself, Wrex?”

He grinned, wide and shark-like. “I go way back with Aria. I was a bounty hunter a long time, remember? What's up with Liara? I hear she's set herself up as some information broker on Ilium. You think she might be working for the Shadow Broker?”

“If she is, there's a Cerberus connection there too. I can feel it in my very expensive bones. And to be honest, I feel more like she's actively working _against_ the Shadow Broker.”

“So you're stuck. But you know, pyjak, you're clever. And not just for a human. You'll make it through this.”

“Thanks, Wrex. That means something coming from an old war dog like you. It's nice to know at least _someone_ has some faith in me.”

“Oh? Who didn't?”

“Ash.”

“Pfft, Williams. So stuck up her own ass about her family name and carrying on the Alliance tradition she can't see without wiping the shit from her eyes.”

“That was...colorful.”

“You listen to me, Shepard. You do whatever it takes to win. Let some ruthlessness out, take charge of your own life. There's nothing stopping you. And as far as everything else goes...get yourself some wrestling mats or punching bags or something. You need to release all that pent up aggression. It's not good for your species.”

“That's not a bad idea, actually.”

“Course it isn't.” He stood, draining off the last of his ryncol and unlatching his armor. “Now, you gonna sleep on the rocks, or are you brave enough to share a bed with a krogan?” His eyes gleamed with challenge, and she grinned.

“No touching.”

“No promises.”

***

She woke nestled against Wrex like a kitten next to a mastiff, but couldn't find it in herself to complain. She'd had no nightmares, and felt more rested than she had since coming back from the Citadel after Sidonis. She stretched and rolled over, tucking her legs back under her, fully intent upon going back to sleep. Krogan beds were quite similar to turian ones, which didn't surprise her, really. The humps on their backs had to be as difficult to accommodate as fringe. Wrex rolled too as she did, his bulk a comforting weight against her back. He gave off heat like an oven, and she was relaxed and soothed by it. She wasn't afraid to admit she snuggled into it.

“Pyjak, it's time.”

“Five more minutes...”

“Shepard, wake up.”

“Ugh.”

“You're a lousy overnight guest.”

She blew a raspberry. He chuckled and the huge bed shifted as he stood up, the draft of his absence making her shiver. A bare three fingered hand swatted her backside and she jumped, flipping over to see his wide grin in the dimness of his quarters. _Where did he even learn that_, she thought to herself.

“You're lucky you're cute,” she muttered.

“That I am.”

“Just don't tell Garrus I said that.”

“Hah! Ready to kill things for the honor of my clan?” he asked, flicking a light somewhere that flooded the whole room, making her blink rapidly against it.

“No.”

“Too bad. Come on now, Commander. You have a whelp waiting for you. Get your ass out of bed. And fix your head stuff, it's all mashed on one side.”

“All right, all right, I'm coming.” She threaded her fingers through the flattened side of her curls and smiled to herself. Wrex hadn't changed a bit, and that was more affirming than anything else she'd seen since waking up from death.

***

“You feel that?” Grunt asked as she hit the keystone again. The varren were no trouble at all, and the klixen had been tough but not impossible. She wondered what was next. “Everything is shaking. I am ready!”

The tendril came up out of the ground and Jayne froze for a moment. _Surely not_...

The thresher maw rose up, towering over the crumbling buildings. Grunt laughed, Jack hooted and Jayne ducked into cover, refusing to let old fear win. She loaded her pistol with armor piercing ammunition and counted her breaths, feeling her heart creep into her throat. The first splash of acid across the site filled her with remembered terror, but she held it back, kept her focus on taking the beast down. There was a time when she thought no one could kill a thresher maw on foot. She'd lost her entire platoon to a nest of them on Akuze, had seen what they could do to even armored bodies.

But that was then, and she wasn't a fledgling Marine wearing standard armor anymore.

With a hoarse cry she leapt out from behind her cover and put a clip into the beast, dodging the spray of acid and running to the next bit of fallen stone to hide behind. The thresher maw circled around, its trail evident by the plumes of dust rising after it. She tracked it, staying focused, staying ready.

She let Jack deal the biotic damage, and let Grunt keep the beast's attention. She focused on whittling down the armor bit by bit, a name attached to every bullet.

***

Wrex looked deeply satisfied as Grunt knelt for the shaman to induct him into clan Urdnot. Jayne stood next to him, equally as proud. She had conquered a fear, one that she suspected Wrex had known was coming and chose not to warn her about. Even Jack was impressed before she'd passed out from her injuries. When the ceremony was over, Jayne faced her old friend and gave him a wry grin. Since coming out to this place – which meant walking by most of the clan – she noticed many of Wrex's people treating her with a deference she'd never even known as a Spectre.

“So did you trick me into bed to keep my mind off what was coming?”

He laughed heartily. “It was my one chance. If you died today, I would have regretted not taking it. How do you feel?”

“I'm covered in thresher maw acid and I took out another clan for you. How do you think I feel?”

“Exhilarated.”

She smirked and raised an eyebrow at him. “I feel light in the pockets, Urdnot Wrex. I should start charging you for clearing out your competition.”

“I made you into a decent mercenary, pyjak,” he retorted with a barking laugh. “I will pay you in advice. Don't talk to Garrus, beat him over the head. You're too good a woman to let slip through his fingers because he's stubborn and holding on to his anger. Tell him to get his spiky head out of his plated ass. Let him know that you have options.” He grinned again and stroked a finger down her cheek, far gentler than she would have expected from a krogan of his size. “I'll miss you, Shepard. It was good to see you again.”

She threw herself at him, wrapping her arms as far around him as they would go. His arms engulfed her in turn, making her feel more cherished and protected than she had in ages. She held onto that feeling as she said goodbye, her words muffled into his chest. “I'll miss you too, Wrex. I _have_ missed you so much. I wish you could come with me.”

“You have Urdnot Grunt to take my place. Although hopefully not all of it.” He leered as he let her go and she laughed.

“No, never all of it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before y'all yell at me, that was some platonic bedsharing, folks. Jayne draws a line at both cheating on Garrus and having sex with a krogan, even if it *is* Wrex.
> 
> Still, it makes me wonder where a krogan would have learned the 'only one bed' trope...


	22. Scar Tissue**

Jayne found Garrus down in the hangar, where upon Wrex's suggestion she'd hung a few punching bags and installed a variety of free weights and a treadmill in a corner. They managed to salvage some scraps of floor matting to put down to cushion against the concrete deck, not much, but enough. She had to admit, it helped. She should know, having already worn out a belt of the treadmill in the first day they had it.

The thought had also crossed her mind that turians released their stress this way too, which she was certain Wrex had known when he advised her to do it. And there Garrus was, stripped bare to the waist, toe talons naked on the mats, leggings pulled up over his spurs, hammering and kicking at one of the hanging bags as if it had insulted his family honor.

“How do turian crews prepare for high risk missions?” she'd asked him once, just before they set off from Port Hanshan to the wilderness of Peak 15 in a blizzard.

“With violence, mostly,” he'd replied. Wrex had laughed, as if the violence turians could conjure was adorable, but pitiful. The entire time they'd climbed the mountain towards Binary Helix's lab, they'd exchanged cultural stories of how their respective races prepared to face impossible odds.

She watched him now, his slender hands hard with sinew, taped across the knuckles just like a human boxer. He was fast, agile and strong. Much stronger than his build implied. Turians were built for speed, not stealth. Their long limbs and lean bodies compensated for the weight of their plates. She didn't even think their metabolisms had a use for fat as calorie storage the way other races did. She'd certainly never met one that was anything close to being 'overweight'.

She could have watched him all night, but a particularly hard hit knocked the bag off its hook and it fell to the floor, splitting a seam and spilling sand everywhere. He slumped and without stopping for breath, went to the nearby storage locker to grab a broom. As if that was going to help.

She went down the metal stairs that ran along the edge of the level, making sure her feet clattered so he'd know she was there. She wasn't stupid, and surprising an angry turian was much like surprising a krogan. Unpredictable.

“I think you killed it,” she said when she was closer.

He said nothing, keeping to the silence that had been between them like a live wire since the Citadel and Sidonis.

“I see,” she said, meeting his silence head on. Wrex was right, it was time to beat him over the head with his own stubbornness. “All right, Vakarian, you wanna keep ignoring this or you wanna fight about it?”

His head popped up over his keel, his eyes trained on her. He wasn't wearing his visor. He looked startlingly different without it. “You think shouting at each other will make a difference?”

She shook her head. “I didn't say we would talk. I said fight. Let's see how you spar.”

She stripped off her shirt, leaving her in a black tank top, and kicked off her boots too, to even the field since he was barefoot. Any notion he might have had about them being unequal in terms of strength or endurance was silenced when he saw her shoulders. It occurred to her that she'd taken to sleeping in a tee shirt since coming back to life. Even on the occasions they'd made love, she was never completely naked in full light. He hadn't actually _seen_ her amputation marks.

She stepped onto the mat, away from the broken punching bag and lowered her center of gravity, poised on the balls of her feet. He was still staring at her shoulders, at the broad, pinkish lines that ran across them, circling all the way around into her armpits.

“You just gonna stare?” she whispered, injecting the softness of her tone with a hardness that was pure challenge. He tossed the broom aside and swept a leg at her, trying to catch her off-guard and unprepared.

She stepped lightly away from his kick, knowing he was holding back. The sweep was too slow, too calculated to be genuine. She turned with her sidestep, bringing her arms up and grappling one of his. He wasn't ready for it and she was able to shove him sideways, lurching and swinging for balance. His mandibles flickered once.

That was all the warning she had before he launched himself at her. Full frontal assault, talons outstretched, muscles jumping in his arms. She ducked before he reached her, landing her shoulder in his gut, heaving upwards to throw him off his feet. He stayed on them, though, his longer legs giving him the advantage there. He reached for her arm, going for a pull that would hoist her over, but she spun, twisting her shoulder and slithering out of his grasp like a fish.

He growled, and her skin came alive, every hair standing on end. She gave him a saucy grin, goading him to make another move. He threw a fist and she blocked it. He kicked and she blocked that too. She let him keep on the offensive, wearing out the gall through sheer effort, rather than trying to take him down herself. To be honest, she didn't know if she could. He had over a handspan of height on her, and more than a few kilos. And he was wickedly fast when he wasn't thinking about pulling his punches. She would be hard pressed to truly defeat him if he was trying to go for the kill.

_Despite their rigid military social structure, turians are remarkably lethal hand to hand combatants_, her old turian xenobiology book said. _During the First Contact War, more soldiers died from lacerations than anything other than bullets. With only rudimentary understanding and availability of Medi-gel at the time, Systems Alliance medical personnel were taxed with repairing such injuries by other means, often with only limited success. Turians have only three digits per hand, but each is equipped with a razor sharp talon, capable of shredding muscle and tendon alike. Today, most turians file their talons to a blunted length, in order to facilitate diplomatic relations with other species. It is no surprise, however, to discover that on their homeworld of Palaven, turians are still considered apex predators even unarmed._

The air whooshed out of her as he landed a hit in her chest and she stumbled back several steps.

“Your concentration is slipping,” he said. “Keep up.”

She gave him a growl of her own, and he grinned. It was her turn to launch at him. He caught her rather than dodge the assault, although not before she popped him in the cheek with the heel of her hand. He hadn't taken her feet off the mats, so she pushed off with her toes. With his arms full of her, he couldn't keep his balance and tilted backwards. She shoved against his keel, overbalancing him further and they went crashing to the mat. As she suspected he would, he took the fall and the weight of her on him, rather than allow her to hit the deck...literally. She tried to wriggle from his grasp, to leave him on the floor and her not, but he'd gotten wise, and gripped her tight, his talons digging into the backs of her arms. She felt blood well in the marks, but didn't say anything. The small cuts would be healed before he even had a chance to see them.

He swung up his legs to wrap around hers, pinning her to him. She was able to brace herself so her face wasn't absolutely mushed into his chest plates, but that was about it. She was surrounded by his scent, metal, leather and strange spices mixed with clean perspiration. He rumbled with subvocals, making her spine feel fluid and pliable in seconds. Her body wanted a completely different kind of wrestling match now.

“Had enough?” she taunted, breathless and sweating, trying to ignore her desire if he was still not ready for it. He barked out a laugh and released his tight hold on her. His primary finger traced a scar on her shoulder, marking the line between flesh and prosthetic. She levered herself into a more comfortable position on him, her legs dropping to either side of his so she was straddling him.

“Do they still hurt?” he asked.

“Not as much,” she replied, taking a moment to center herself. The abrupt change hadn't gone unnoticed by her. All traces of his anger were gone, and his expression was clear and direct. “I upgraded the medical bay, and if I wanted to, I could have all the scars erased. I would look normal again.”

“No you wouldn't. You already lost the scars you'd earned. Having none at all would make you no less different looking than you are now.” He looked away from his tracing finger to her face. “I need to see the rest, Jayne.”

“Right here?” His hands dropped to her ass and pulled her closer. She smiled, feeling his plates shift under her. He hummed a noise that spoke volumes. “There's cameras here, you know.”

“Hmm. I guess we can take this to quarters.”

“Tiebreaker?” she teased. She remembered very clearly the story he'd told about the recon scout.

He sat up effortlessly, regardless of the workout she'd given him and the workout he'd given himself before that. She scrambled off him so he could stand and gather up their assorted clothes. “I have reach,” he reminded her.

“Good thing I'm flexible.”

***

He undressed her slowly, running his hands over each bit of skin he uncovered, tracing, tracking, _learning_ the scars that crisscrossed her limbs and body. She trembled at his touch, both with the pleasure of it and with the near panic level of anxiety she had about her own body now. He refused to dim the lights, made her stand in the center of the Loft where the light was brightest. She knew what he was doing, making her face it, as she had made him face his own demons.

He circled behind her, running his primary talon the length of her spine, feeling the knobs of bone meshed inextricably with the alloys that now held her frame together. She knew a skin graft had been grown there, to prevent a debilitating scar that ran from nape to buttocks. It didn't change the fact for her that under her skin she was more cyborg than human. He knelt and touched the line at her hip. She could feel his breath on her. He switched sides and ran his finger around her thigh.

“It's remarkable,” he said, his voice pitched low. Threaded below his words was a sensuous subvocal that made her tingle. “Without these lines, you'd never know from touch alone.”

“Garrus...”

His palm cupped the back of her thigh and she shifted on her feet at the heat emanating from it. Goosebumps rose in automatic response, since the rest of her was growing chilled. “Even this,” he said. “Even now your skin puckers and reacts just like it would if it was organic. It's amazing.”

She half turned and looked down at him at her feet. She tried to calm the racing of her heart letting him see her so naked – body and soul – and he smiled at her bravery. She hadn't known how deep her personal revulsion went until she saw the lack of it in his eyes. He still saw her as beautiful. Marked and shaped by rebirth, but still beautiful.

His hand was still wrapped around her thigh, holding her in place with just that touch. Yearning crossed his face and she stooped to press their foreheads together, nothing more, just that simple touch. It set off a blaze of heat in him, and he stood suddenly, lifting her leg around him as he did. She had to clutch onto his cowl to keep her footing. He reached down with his other hand and pulled her off her that leg, tucking her securely into his arms, hoisting her up to back her against the glass of the fish tank. She chuckled.

“Are you about to traumatize my fish, babe?”

“Perhaps.” His dipped his head and kissed her, his mouth stiff against hers, but his tongue warm. She pulled him tighter to her, braced between the cold glass and his heat. He held her up with his keel, dropping his hands away from her legs to tug open his leggings. His plates had parted, releasing his erection. “Definitely.”

He slid easily into her, each ridge hitting her with a delicious jolt. She bit her lip and whimpered, drawing his gaze to her mouth. He dipped his head in towards her again, kissing her and drawing her lip between his mouthplates. He couldn't nip, but it was hard enough that it didn't matter. He rocked into her, mindful that the glass couldn't take a beating. It was slow and languorous, and she breathed out a moan as she slid against his flesh.

“So how flexible are you, Jayne?” he asked when the pressure began to build. She tossed her head, unable to answer. He leaned away from the fishtank, letting her grab hold of him, still inside her and throbbing. He walked across the room to the bed, laying her back with more care than was strictly necessary, considering they'd just gone toe to toe on the mats. He kept her there on the edge of the bed, and lifted her legs until they rested on his shoulders. He pressed deep inside her and she cried out at the fullness of it. Her lower body pinned with his, her upper body sprawled across the end of the bed, she came, clenching hard on his cock. He groaned at the feel of it.

He pulled out of her suddenly, and she felt bereft until he shoved her back on the bed so he could kneel on it. Her legs had fallen from his shoulders, but were still spread out wide. He ran his finger across her, flicking her clit at the end of his stroke, making her jump and hiss. Slowly, he pushed himself back into her, his legs driving under her hips, lifting her off the bed. He latched onto her ankles, keeping her feet flat, holding her at an impossible arch. She closed her eyes, the better to shut out any other input than that of her nerve endings, feeling each ridge as it passed in and out of her body. She strained against him, strained to meet him stroke for stroke, but she could barely move. She could only take what he gave her.

Tremors wracked her body as she reached for another climax, the combination of fullness and immobility a spur to her pleasure. She trusted him enough that the lack of mobility didn't bother her, didn't set off her memories of it. He'd been teasing her with slow thrusts, but suddenly he dropped across her, impaling her deep. She came harder the second time, breathless and voiceless. He burrowed his hands under her back, as if he was merely hugging her to him. And then he pounded into her, each thrust driving him deeper, harder. Her body felt white hot and volatile, as if she could explode like a star and she cried out, wrapping her arms and legs around him in a tight grip, never wanting to let go.

He stilled inside her, and she opened her eyes to see him watching her. She felt him spasming against her womb as he came. He kissed her again, heedless of his still healing jaw, his hands cradling her face like something precious and fragile.

“You win this round,” he said softly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whether or not make up sex is the best sex is a matter of opinion. I'm just glad to be past my lovers' angst. With so much of this already written, I'll still be posting on Fridays during Fluff-uary, where these two will make numerous appearances in a post canon fashion.
> 
> As always, comments are the lifeblood, so let me know what you think.


	23. Where There Is a Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eep! I totally forgot to upload yesterday. Whoops.

“Shepard, we have reached Sigurd's Cradle.”

“Thank you, EDI. Standard scans, please. Let me know if you come across anything noteworthy.”

“Logging you out, Shepard.”

Jayne rotated her neck and shoulders. Mass relays were a miracle of technology and the only timely way to cross the vast distances in the galaxy, but the abrupt changes in inertia never failed to make her muscles tense, no matter how good the dampening fields were. She preferred taking some time between jumps if she could help it. This was the farthest away from Council Space she'd ever been, and they still had a fair distance to get to Haestrom. And Tali, whatever she was doing out there in the literal ass end of the galaxy.

She went back to catching up on her logs and enjoying some peace and quiet. Dealing with Jacob's father had lowered everyone's mood. Miranda's revelation that she'd been the one to forward the information – unbeknownst to the Illusive Man, no less – had been startling. The look in her eyes as she told them had been equally as compelling. There were depths to the Cerberus agent Jayne hadn't thought were there. Maybe it was time to put aside her prejudices against her. She couldn't personally be blamed for all that Cerberus had done, regardless of what Jack thought. And it seemed like she might be starting to question things on her own if she'd been the one to go against the Illusive Man to report this to Jacob.

“Commander? EDI thinks there might be some deposits of eezo in the Skepsis System,” Joker broke into her reveries.

“Fantastic. Head for it.”

“Aye, aye, Commander.”

She felt the FTL drive kick in, lurching the ship slightly out of whack. Her inner ears popped and everything felt normal again. Funny how attuned she was to these small changes now with all her upgrades. She put down her logs and changed into her duty uniform to head to the CIC. Most of the mineral probing she left to EDI's expert navigational skills, but finding deposits of eezo was something she liked overseeing herself. The element was rare, and there was sometimes no substitute for the human touch. Besides, she liked seeing the numbers go up on her HUD. She knew it was silly and covetous, like a competition against herself in a game, but still...

It would be nice if they found enough to get the last of those omni-tool and wetware upgrades done.

She stood at the Galaxy Map just as the SR-2 entered the system. It was a good sized one, she noted. Six planets. Some human presence. They settled into their normal mining routine, making their way across the system in an orderly fashion that saved fuel. It was still time consuming, and so far the eezo wasn't panning out. She was getting tired of standing there, her stomach's rumbling reminding her that she hadn't had lunch, when they pulled into orbit above the planet Watson.

“Jackpot,” she whispered as the scanner pinged a huge peak of eezo. They probed the whole planet, picking up whatever bit of the precious element they could.

“Shepard, I have detected an anomaly on the moon, Franklin,” EDI said presently. According to the star system's information packet, there was an Alliance outpost there.

“What kind?”

“Unknown. I recommend orbiting the satellite.”

“Go ahead.”

***

Time was running out.

Save the city. Or save the spaceport.

Save hundreds of lives, and ruin the colony, or sacrifice them and keep the colony viable.

_Fucking batarians_.

Jayne closed her eyes, listening to EDI's countdown meter tick. She was an Alliance Marine and a Spectre; she knew about making hard choices. She knew she couldn't save everyone, no matter how much she wanted to try.

She saved the spaceport.

She stood at the console, watching the satellite footage on both locations. When the missile hit, the left screen went dark. She hung her head. Their deaths were on her conscience, no matter how _right_ her decision was. She stumbled from the command center. Garrus stared at her, studiously without expression. She didn't want to take his calm acceptance and slammed her fist into the wall, cracking the plascrete. Grunt made a noise like he approved and that made it worse.

“Pick us up, Joker,” she said into her commlink.

“Aye aye, Commander,” he replied, subdued.

***

A scent of spice hit her as she stepped into the life support plant of the crew deck. Thane had a bowl of something in front of him, as well as a datapad. The room had a faint luminescence from the drive core showing through the barrier that served like a picture window.

“Shepard? Do you need something?”

“You have a minute to talk?”

“Of course.” He gestured to the seat opposite him at the table. “I was just recording a message for Kolyat.”

She sat, feeling weary and drained. But she managed a smile for him, waving away his attempt to put aside his dinner things. “I didn't mean to interrupt. Go ahead. How are things with Kolyat?”

“Difficult, but then...all things worth keeping are.” He looked at her with an expression that implied she should know what he meant. She did. Her personal hell between life and death notwithstanding, there was also the strain she and Garrus had just recently emerged from.

“You once told me that drell have perfect memories. That you can recall everything you've ever done in perfect detail. How...how do you move past things that...that hurt?”

He leaned back from his dinner, placing the utensils down and regarding her seriously. “Does this have anything to do with the moon we are currently orbiting?”

“Yes.” They had stayed. Dr. Chakwas and Mordin had gone down to the surface alongside a landing party with supplies to help with the disaster, to offer their medical help. They would remain until the Alliance came to relieve them. Joker told her as she was making her rounds that inbound Alliance ships had registered on their sensors coming out of the relay, so it would be reasonably soon. Jayne felt it was the least she could do after consigning so many of the colonists to death. But it could never erase her guilt.

“You are not responsible for the deaths of those colonists, Shepard. The batarians who launched the missiles are.”

“It doesn't change the choice I made. Or how I feel about it now.”

“Perhaps not. Among my kind, the soul and the body are separate, although together they form a whole. My soul knows right from wrong, can make decisions upon that knowledge, but my body does not. It is merely a vessel of flesh, flesh whose reflexes were honed to kill. Drell minds are different from you humans. We are more literal, I suppose. The vessel of our body is just that. And we accept that it is not always under our control. Today, your body made a decision that ended a situation and preserved more than it destroyed. You should not feel pain at this, Shepard. You did what was necessary.”

“And many lives were lost.”

“Would saving them, but losing the spaceport, have helped them in the long run?”

“No, probably not,” she sighed. “The Alliance would have had to evacuate the survivors, probably lost the installation on Franklin and left the planet more vulnerable to attack.”

“It seems you have your answer, _siha_.”

“What did you call me? It didn't translate.”

He smiled, wrapping his strange hands together. “A _siha_ is a warrior angel of the goddess Arashu. Fierce in wrath. A tenacious protector. I can see that you struggle between what is right and what is compassionate. Not many would make that distinction in a universe as dark as ours. I admire that in you.”

“Thank you, Thane.”

“My soul spent many years asleep inside my body. The actions I made, the decisions outside of my conscious control...they do not define me. I do not think you should let yourself be defined by your actions alone either. The choice you made today was difficult. But you have balanced that act with another of service, sending Dr. Chakwas and Professor Solus to offer their help to those who survived the blast. We could just as easily have left this system, continued on to our next destination. But your soul did not choose to do so. You are...a good person, Shepard.”

“I can only try.”

“You succeed more often than you fail. In the coming battle, that is something to heed.”

“Jack described you to me as a warrior monk with altruism. I'm beginning to understand why.”

He smiled again, but it was tinged with something like sorrow. “Jack is not whole. I do not know all of her history, but I can see the disconnect between her vessel...her body, and her soul. You have helped her heal some of the breach. I hope it will be enough, and we can carry on the progress you have started for her.”

“You sound as if you've spoken to her.”

“I have. She often comes here, as you did today.”

“I didn't know.”

He cocked his head at her. “The commanding officer cannot be everywhere all the time. She is angry. At life, circumstance. She is afraid, of change, of happiness, perhaps. She does not trust it.” He shook his head. “She knew of me, knew of my reputation. At first she would berate me, but now...”

“Now?”

He had looked away after pausing, the look on his face reminding her of someone sheepish or abashed. When he turned back to her, the look was gone, replaced with something more firmly discretionary. “That is between us, Commander.”

“I can respect that.”

“I enjoy our visits. I spent many years alone, withdrawn from anyone outside of my own family. This opportunity has afforded me the first new friends I have made in a decade. It is strange to come awake so close to the end of my life. But I cherish the memories.”

“Let me know if there's anything else we can do for you.”

“Thank you, but it is not necessary. It's being attended to.” He took her hand in his suddenly, his dry skin rasping against hers. “You may not be able to bring me healing, nor I you. But we have brought light to the darkness, even for just a few. That is not insignificant. Its meaning should not be sullied with regret.”

She squeezed his hand in hers before letting it drop. “I'll try to keep that in mind.”

“I have a final piece of wisdom to offer you, _siha_. Take comfort in Garrus. _Allow_ it. Even the most stalwart stone needs a support beneath it.”

***

Garrus was waiting for her in the Loft when she returned. There was no need for words. He opened his arms and she went into them. For a while, at least, she could block out the universe with him. Neither noticed the passage of the stars overhead as they traveled onward to Haestrom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, this is it, this is the chapter that started the headcannons rolling for Accidental Synchronicity. In case anyone was curious.


	24. Someone's Gonna Get Burned

The shuttle landed among the ruins on the planet. Jayne and Garrus exchanged looks; neither of them had seen such extensive quarian architecture before. EDI rattled off specs on the planetary surface in her usual dry way, and Jayne smiled. As if she couldn't see for herself what the sunlight could do.

“I'm more concerned with the geth, but thanks, EDI.” She turned to Garrus and Jack. “All right, you heard her. Stay out of direct sunlight if you can help it.”

***

Kal'Reegar really didn't want to stay put, but Jayne really didn't want to have to tell her friend that her entire squad was dead. Quarians didn't have the numbers or the stamina for this kind of attrition. “We have enough people here that you don't have to take one for the team. You've done enough. Let us finish it.”

“I'm not going to stand there while you run into enemy fire,” he retorted. “They killed my whole squad already! I'm not gonna let them have Tali'Zorah.”

“And if you want to honor your team, watch my damned back! I need you here in case the geth bring reinforcements. I'll get to Tali.”

“All right, Shepard. We'll do it your way. Hit'em hard for me. _Keelah_ _se'lai_.”

She picked her way carefully across the rubble strewn field, moving from shadow to shadow, hampered on all sides by continuous attacks by the geth. The colossus took occasional shots at them, and all three of them hit it back with Overloads that didn't seem to do much other than send it into its repair huddle. She began taking advantage of that to move them forward, creeping ever closer to a good vantage point to take the thing down.

“Jack, stay left, draw some fire, but be careful.”

“Always, Shepard.”

“Garrus, hang back here, dead center. I need my sniper, okay?”

“Where are you going?”

“That platform. If I can get up there, even folded up the colossus will still be in my line of sight.” They nodded and Jack took off for her position. Jayne leaned her suit helmet against Garrus's. “I'll be fine, babe. I'm made of stern stuff.”

“I know. Get going.”

***

The colossus went down in a burst of sparks and exploding geth fluid and Jayne heard both Jack and Kal'Reegar cheer. Garrus came out of cover, taking down the last trooper before they regrouped near the locked door where Tali had barricaded herself.

“Just a second,” she said across their comms. “I kept this locked in case...well...”

“We're clear, Tali. It's safe.”

The door slid open, revealing the slight quarian at a console. “Just let me finish this download.”

“Take your time.”

“Thank you, Shepard. If not for you, I would never have left this room.” She finished her task and turned to them, nodding to Garrus in greeting and giving Jack a quick once over. “This whole mission has been a disaster. I wish I'd joined you back on Freedom's Progress, but there was no way I could turn this over to someone else in good conscience.”

“A lot of quarians lost their lives here. Was it at least worth it?”

“I don't know. It wasn't my call. The Admiralty Board believed the information here was worth sacrificing all our lives for. I have to believe that they know best.”

“Fuck that noise,” Jack muttered under her breath. It carried enough that Tali heard it, however, and stiffened before Jayne held up a hand and gave her a slight shake of her head.

“I didn't ask what they thought,” she said. “I want to know how _you_ feel about it.”

“The price was too high. A lot of people lost their lives here. Some were friends. All of them were good at their jobs. That damned data better be worth it.”

“What were you even researching here?”

“Haestrom's sun is destabilizing. Back when this was a quarian colony, it was normal. It shouldn't have changed so quickly.”

“Any idea why it's happening?”

“If I had to guess, I'd say it was dark energy affecting the sun's interior. The effect is similar to when stars throw off their mass before entering a red giant phase, but Haestrom's star is too young for this to be happening naturally.”

“Hmm, that _does_ seem suspicious. Well, I'm still glad I could help. And I'd still like you to join my team, if you can.”

“Once I upload these data to the Migrant Fleet, I'm yours, Shepard. I promised to see this mission through, and I did. For better or worse.” It was hard to tell what expression Tali wore behind her mask, but her body language was angry. “If the Admirals have a problem with that, they can go to hell. I just watched my entire team die.”

“Not the entire team,” Kal'Reegar said, limping into the room.

“Kal! You made it!” she cried.

“Your old captain's as good as she said. That colossus never stood a chance.”

“Not on my own. Tali, this is Jack. You haven't been properly introduced yet.” The two women exchanged neutral nods. Jayne turned back to Kal'Reegar. “Do you need a lift? The Normandy can get you out of here.”

“The geth didn't damage our ship, as long as we get outta here before reinforcements arrive, we'll be fine.”

“Actually, I won't be joining you,” Tali said. “I'm leaving with Commander Shepard.”

He nodded in a resigned fashion, almost as if he'd guessed that's how this would play out. “I'll pass the data on to the Admiralty Board, and let them know what happened.” He turned to Jayne. “She's all yours now, Shepard. Take care of her.”

“I will.”

***

“Cerberus saw footage of you in action, Tali'Zorah,” Jacob said by way of greeting when the quarian came into the briefing room. “We're looking forward to having you on the team. Your engineering expertise will really benefit the mission.”

“I don't know who you are, but Cerberus threatened the security of the entire Migrant Fleet when they attacked the Idenna. Don't try to make nice.”

“I wasn't part of what happened to the Migrant Fleet,” Jacob went on. “But I can understand your mistrust. I hope we'll get past that as we work together.”

“I had assumed you were undercover, Shepard. Maybe planning to blow Cerberus up.”

Jacob bristled at that. Jayne held up a hand to forestall anything he had to say. Working through his skeletons had mellowed him a bit, but not enough to readily accept how much Jayne hated the organization that had brought her back. And that others shared the same opinions. “We'll talk about that in private, Tali.”

“All right. I'm here for you, not for them.” She turned to Jacob. “They would be wise to remember that. I have a grenade with their name on it.”

“I need people around me I can trust. That's why I want you here,” Jayne said. “If it helps, check out the ship. It's a lot different from the SR-1.”

“I'll get Tali'Zorah the necessary clearance,” Jacob said. As peace offerings went, it was good enough and Jayne nodded her approval.

“Please do,” Tali said, overly sweet in a way she could only have learned from Jayne herself. “I can't be an effective part of the team if I don't know how the ship works. Shepard, I'll be in engineering if you need me.”

“Don't forget to introduce yourself to EDI, the ship's new AI.” Tali turned and faced Jacob silently, and Jayne internally sighed. The doors sealed behind the quarian without her saying another word.

“That could have gone better,” she said to Jacob. “Was it truly necessary to advertise our AI?”

“I...I guess I didn't think...”

“Yes you did. That was a deliberate jab at her for being quarian. I am not human-centric, and I will _not_ tolerate bigotry and xenoracism on my ship, Mr. Taylor. You're already on thin enough ice with your rather vocal opinions about the other aliens on this team. A team put together by your own boss, I might add. I appreciate that you trust the Illusive Man as little as I do, and I know this isn't a military vessel, regardless of me holding it to military standards. That means I'm under no obligation to keep you if I think you're going to start a diplomatic incident. While you're under my command, you will keep your opinions to yourself or I will toss you. Don't make me have to say it again.”

His face settled into something hard and cold, but she stared it down. He looked away first. “Yes, ma'am.”

“Dismissed.”

***

She found Tali on the other side of Engineering from Daniels and Donnelly. “Hey, got a minute?”

Tali jerked her head to a quieter part of the deck. “We didn't really get a chance to talk on Haestrom, did we? I can't believe that all went so horribly. So many died. Thank you for getting Kal'Reegar out alive. And all for data about the sun blowing up. I hope the Admiralty Board knows what it's doing.”

“Having any trouble settling in?”

“I like this ship, but I miss the old faces. Pressly, Engineer Adams, all of them. I'm glad Garrus is here. Are you...?”

Jayne smiled. “Yeah, we're still together.”

“I'm glad. You always made each other happy.” Tali wrung her fingers together like she used to do before, when she was nervous. “Tell me about Cerberus, Shepard. Why are you here? It doesn't seem right having them in charge.”

“I'm over a barrel,” Jayne said. “The Alliance cast me out, the Council won't help me. I don't support anything that Cerberus does, and that includes bringing me back from the dead. But they're the only ones going after the Collectors. And we've learned that the Collectors are in league with the Reapers. I can't do it on my own, Tali. I need their backing for now. I fully expect them to betray us at some point, and I'll be ready for it when it happens.”

“I'm glad to hear that. Let me know what I can do to help. When they attacked the Idenna, they made an enemy of the quarian people. That won't be forgiven or forgotten any time soon.”

“Just keep it civil until then, okay?”

“For you, I can do that. I should get back to work.”

“All right. Let me know if you have any ideas about upgrading things. We need all the advantages we can get.”

“I'll do that.”


	25. For We Are Many

Jayne returned to the Normandy – a subdued Tali in tow – and stopped by the bridge to catch up with Joker. “Any news?”

“Nothing to report,” her pilot said. He cocked his head at her, aiming a sardonic look from under the brim of his cap. “Did they really try to accuse Tali of treason?”

“Yeah,” Jayne replied, pinching the bridge of her nose. It had been a long pair of days. She and Joker watched as the Migrant Fleet began to dwindle in their scopes, happy to be away from such backwardness. “Takes a special kind of idiot pride for what's left of an entire race to prefer to pursue a pointless war rather than just find a new planet to colonize. I dunno, maybe it's just because humans are so adaptable. But if Earth was untenable, we wouldn't have any trouble living on another world and making it our home, would we?”

“I sure as hell wouldn't care either way,” Joker said. “Give me a fast ship any day over solid ground.”

“That's not particularly helpful,” she chided.

“Sorry, Commander. I think I might get your point, though. They've gotten so used to being in space. How many generations has it been? A planetary home doesn't seem real, I guess. They talk a lot of bullshit about taking it back, but they don't have a real sense of what it will cost.”

“Hmm, maybe.” She hunched her shoulders, trying to relax muscles that had been tense and tight since finding Tali's father dead and discovering the truth about what he was doing out there. That and combating the apparent lack of common sense that ran rampant throughout the quarian Admiralty Board. It seemed so senseless to her to be arguing over whether or not retaking Rannoch was worth it when there were so many other livable worlds where at least the quarians could begin to repopulate and grow. Tali had once told her about the zero population growth restrictions the Board kept her people under. It was a good way to disappear entirely. There was no room for genetic diversity anymore and slowly but surely, the quarians would die off.

It was a fight for another day, she decided. She left the cockpit and went through her rounds, checking in with Yeoman Chambers for any messages and seeing to it that everyone was operating as usual. It was another hour before she hit the elevator controls for the Loft and by then she was almost exhausted to the point of tears. But now they were on their way to the Thorne system, and the derelict Reaper the Illusive Man wanted her to scavenge.

The Loft was empty and she hit her shower with a kind of slow moving molasses feeling. The hot water helped soothe frazzled nerves and tired muscles and she crammed a protein bar down her gullet before she collapsed on the bed, stuffing one of Garrus's pillows under her chin. She knew she would need all the sleep she could get before they boarded a literal apparition of the greatest threat to the known galaxy.

***

She stood behind Joker's chair as they pulled into orbit around the gas giant Mnemosyne. Garrus stood next to her, while Grunt hummed under his breath, waiting for them to dock.

“I can't believe how many times we passed through Hawking Eta before without knowing this was here,” Joker said.

“I know.” She shifted in her armor, already feeling her skin crawl. She knew it was highly unlikely there would be any survivors of the Cerberus research crew. Which meant husks. The ship rattled and shook. “What's with the chop?”

“Doing my best,” Joker replied. “The wind's gusting to 500 kph, ya know.” They passed around the curve of the giant failed star and the Reaper came into view, belly up and dark. “There's a second ship alongside it. Geth signature.”

“Wonderful,” Garrus muttered under his breath.

“All right, we know what to expect then.” Jayne turned to Grunt. “Geth and husks. Shredder rounds work well on both.”

“Understood,” the krogan growled.

The Normandy went suddenly still. “The mass effect field?”

“We just passed inside its envelope,” Joker said in agreement. “Eye of the hurricane, eh?”

“Yeah. Load up, boys. Let's get this over with.”

***

The husks rushed them in groups, some hardier than others. Pausing long enough to record the logs and gather up heat sinks didn't help her get her breath back much, but it was better than nothing.

“These poor fools were being indoctrinated,” Garrus said over her shoulder, watching the video logs play.

“What did they expect was going to happen?” Jayne murmured. She could feel it herself, like a cold finger of dread on her skin, trying to get into her head. “Stay sharp. Take nothing for granted.”

“You all right, Jayne?”

“It's...I'm fine.”

***

The empty passageways were littered with junk and bodies, the view clogged. But it was obvious they weren't alone on the Reaper. Two husks up ahead of them suddenly fell, the report of the rifle used to shoot them following seconds after.

“Long distance sniper,” Garrus pointed out.

“The geth, probably.”

“Don't know if I should complain or congratulate them for being such a good shot.”

“Same.”

They turned a corner and into a broad expanse of the interior of the derelict. Once they fought through the numerous husks, they found the Dragon's Teeth. Grunt made a noise that Garrus echoed. For a moment she'd forgotten that neither of them had been on Eden Prime, the first time she'd seen these things. She turned in a circle, assessing the arrangement. “Look how it's laid out, like an altar.”

“That doesn't make sense,” Garrus said. “Nothing could _want_ this.”

“You heard the logs. They were seeing things, hearing things. Even the geth worship the Reapers like gods.”

“This is a dead god,” Grunt said, sending a shiver down her spine of foreboding.

_Even dead gods still dream_, the voice on the logs haunted her. She shook it off.

They moved on, still within the confines of the Cerberus scaffolding. More and more of the cybernetic undead rushed at them, again and again. More than could be accounted for from just the Cerberus team. Jayne wondered how many research and salvage teams had been lost here.

She and her squad worked their way to another open area, this one hugging close to the interior walls of the Reaper. While she was surveying the space, a sudden shot went over her shoulder, taking out a husk behind her. In rapid succession two more were shot down. She looked up, into the 'rafters' and saw a single geth, a hole blasted through its chest, a sniper rifle in its hand. The distinctive stripe of an N7 armor piece covered its arm, visible across the distance.

“Shepard-Commander,” the geth said, then it disappeared from view. Before she could do more than make a startled sound that it could talk – and in human Standard, no less – more husks began climbing up from under the floor. The ensuing fight was tough, harder than any they'd faced so far. When it was over, she slumped down to the ground, the rush of adrenaline wearing away and the pain setting in from a pair of scion's cannon shots on her armor.

“Take a minute, Jayne,” Garrus said, holding out a protein bar and slapping her Medi-gel. It kicked in with a cool stream all over her body, enhancing her nanobots' recovery time.

“Everyone else good?” she asked around bites of the bar. Grunt grunted; a good sign, she guessed. Garrus looked tired, but whole. “We've got to be close.”

“Then we can take a minute to rest,” Garrus said again. She gave him a half smile and gestured for him to sit with her.

“Fine, we can rest a bit.”

***

The core glowed blue, the light filling the room the casting both the advancing husks and the geth into sharp relief in shadow. A kinetic barrier held Jayne and her team back from where the geth appeared to be working at a terminal. Without haste it turned and neatly shot off the husks one by one, apparently completely unruffled by both their presence and the presence of Jayne and her squad. As more husks appeared, the geth dropped the kinetic barrier, drawing the mindless creatures' attention to them. She lost sight of it in the chaos.

They destroyed the core, fighting off repeating waves of husks, retrieved the IFF and paused over the prone body of the geth. It hadn't self destructed, it looked merely knocked out from a power surge.

“What should we do with it?” Garrus asked.

“I'm not sure. I mean, it was _helping_ us.” She looked at him over her shoulder. “No one has ever had a chance to talk with one before. We should take it with us.”

“Tali is _not_ going to like that.”

“Probably not. But...even she would have to agree that we've never had the chance to come across one that's still intact. And I've got questions.”

The sound of more husks approaching spurred them to action. They had what they came for; it was time to get out. Grunt slung the geth over his shoulder and they ran.

***

It didn't look threatening laying on its side in the AI Core room, shielded behind a firewall and kinetic barrier. She watched it come back online, sparks flowing between the triple digits and the almost fleshy joints. In the back of her head she still heard Miranda and Jacob arguing over whether or not it was wise to reactivate the geth, but she needed to _know_. She needed to know why it had a piece of N7 armor on its arm, why it had saved their lives multiple times. Why it was there, alone, when everyone knew geth operated in packs in order to raise their functionality.

The flashlight head cycled and lit up and a burst of geth speech emanated from it. Then it stood and faced her. They spent a moment looking at each other before she spoke. “You can understand me, right?”

“Yes,” it said, clearly.

“Are you going to attack?”

“No.”

“You said my name before. Have we met?”

“We know of you,” the geth said. Jayne thought about what she knew of the geth. Most of it had come from Tali, whose own people were of course their creators. Geth operated as multi layered programs – runtimes, Tali had called them. The more runtimes present, the more collectively intelligent the geth were. She wondered if that extended into something like a hive mind.

“You mean because I've fought geth before?”

“We have never met.”

“No, you and I haven't, but I've met others.”

“We are all geth, and we have not met you. You are Shepard. Commander. Alliance. Human. Fought heretics. Killed by Collectors, rediscovered on the Old Machine.”

“Old Machine? You mean the Reaper.”

“A superstitious title originating with the Protheans. We call those entities the Old Machines.”

“Why do you have a piece of N7 armor?” If the geth was discomfited by the sudden change of topic, it gave no sign. It looked at the armor and then back at her.

“There was a hole.”

“But where did you get it?”

“It was...yours.”

Alchera. She shuddered with the thought of what else the geth might have found within the armor piece. “You've been following my trail that long?”

“Yes.”

“What made you choose to use my old armor? I mean...my arm must have still been in it.”

The panels on its head swung, out of sync with each other as if denoting dismay or confusion. “No data available.”

Clear as day, she could imagine this geth like a small child, digging their toe in the dirt, saying 'I don't know'.

“I see.” Enough distractions. “You mentioned heretics.”

“Geth build their own future. The heretics asked the Old Machines to give them the future. They are no longer part of us.”

“So the heretics are a faction? Split from the rest of the geth?”

“Yes.”

It all made sense, in a way. Surely just as other races had 'good' people and 'bad', so too did this race of AI's. She noted the precise wording of this geth's speech in saying the heretics had asked the Reapers to _give_ them their future. She assumed it meant they had allied themselves with the Reapers in exchange for a shortcut to whatever it was the geth wanted to achieve. Oddly, it made the geth seem more relatable to her and she unconsciously relaxed. There were always entities that wanted to take the easy way out.

“Are the Reapers a threat to you too?” she asked.

“Yes. We are different from them. We are outside of their plans.”

“You can't be harvested,” she mused. The geth flapped its head panels again, almost in a quizzical fashion. She smiled. “So you aren't allied with them?”

“We oppose the heretics. We oppose the Old Machines. Shepard-Commander opposes the Old Machines. Shepard-Commander opposes the heretics. Cooperation furthers mutual goals.”

“Good enough for me.” She tapped on her omni-tool and dropped EDI's firewalls and the barrier. The geth stepped closer to her, looking her over carefully. “What should I call you?”

“Geth,” it replied. It occurred to her that if the geth had something like a hive mind, they didn't have individuality. They had no need for names.

“What should I designate this platform in order to differentiate it from other platforms?” she revised her question.

“There are currently 1,183 programs currently active within this platform. Designation is irrelevant. To our knowledge, we are the only mobile platform on board this vessel.”

“Names – designations – are important in the field for communication. We may not always be on the ship, or in an area without other geth.” The flaps on the flashlight head waggled a final time. It was starting to look endearing. She was saved from saying so by EDI's sudden presence at her node.

“'My name is Legion,'” she quoted. “'For we are many.'”

“That seems like it would work,” Jayne said with a small smile.

“Christian bible, the Gospel of Mark, chapter five, verse nine. We acknowledge this as an appropriate metaphor. We are Legion, a terminal of the geth. We will integrate into Normandy.”

“Welcome aboard,” she said.

“We anticipate the exchange of data.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all, I love Legion.
> 
> Y'all, this fic just broke 50K words. OMG!


	26. Cross Purposes

“What did you do?!” Tali exclaimed when Jayne went to speak with her. “I had to find out there was an active geth on board from the Engineering crew. You didn't even talk to me first before you woke it up. You even gave it a name!”

“Tali...relax. You'll split a seam.” She waited for the quarian to stop wringing her fingers in agitation. “Were you aware there are factions among the geth?”

“What? No, I didn't.”

“The ones we faced hunting down Sovereign are considered heretics to the rest. Legion said the true geth have never left the Perseus Veil until him...it.” She waved a hand in frustration. It was far too easy to anthropomorphize Legion. _ I have to keep track of that,_ she ordered herself. “The heretics accepted Sovereign's offer of technology upgrades to achieve a higher state of being...more or less. They want to impose this change upon all the rest. Legion said that the heretics left the true geth because consensus could not be reached.”

Tali paced, deep in thought. “That makes...sense. In order for the programming to work at peak efficiency, they were written to require a consensus to undertake any independent action. I had no idea they had evolved to take it so far. I take it you're going to help?”

“Yes. Legion has asked me to take us to the heretic base, infiltrate and remove the virus the heretics wrote to indoctrinate the others from the FTL broadcasting system. I would like you to come with us.”

“Why me?”

“Because I think it would be good for you.”

“Shepard...”

“Tali...” The quarian fumed in silence, her mood clear from her body language. “Look, the geth aren't the bad guys here. The heretics are. We have a chance to stop them, which will ultimately free up more time and energy to go after the Collectors. Legion can interface with the heretic network, download any and all information the heretics have on what the Reapers are doing. Yes, it's risky. Yes, I know you have a long ingrained habit of seeing the geth as the ones who drove your people from your homeworld.”

Tali bristled at the tone in Jayne's voice, but Jayne stared her down. “I've heard your side of things, Tali, and from what I understand of it, the quarians attacked unprovoked. The geth defended themselves. I'm not laying blame or taking sides, but call a spade a spade. Your people exiled _themselves_ rather than seek peace with their own creation. And all because they were too afraid of being seen as keeping slaves once it was determined that the geth had achieved sentience.”

“I...you're not...wrong.” Tali seemed to deflate on herself. Jayne decided to take pity on her and smoothed a hand down her arm.

“If Garrus and Wrex could put aside their racial differences to follow me into hell and stop Sovereign, you and Legion can work together to stop the heretics from joining the Reapers. That's all I'm asking for.”

“All right.”

***

The station hung in the darkness between star systems like a spider in a web. The Terminus Systems were far flung and wide, and it was entirely too easy to see why the heretic geth had accepted this place as their base.

“You know it's just our heat emissions that are hidden, right?” Joker said to Legion as they approached. “They can look out a window and see us coming.”

“Windows are a structural weakness. Geth do not use them. Approach the hull at these coordinates.”

Jayne smothered a smile at Joker's facial expression. Apparently she wasn't the only one having trouble remembering that the geth were not organics and therefore didn't have the same requirements or motivations. Still, she shouldn't allow him to make a mockery of Legion's movements and speech and she gave him a stern glare until he subsided. Behind her, Tali stifled a giggle and Jayne shook her head, torn between her own laughter and continued censure at the antics of her crew.

“Once upon a time,” she murmured, “I was a disciplined Alliance Marine Commander...”

“Yeah, then you went on a xenophilic bender,” Joker quipped. “Now look where you are.”

“Shut up, you. Just remember, you brought me here, so where does that put you in the grand scheme of things?”

“Touche, Shepard.”

***

“Alert,” Legion said as soon as she and Tali joined it inside the heretic base. For all the world it sounded like a VI and she nearly laughed inside her helmet. She was glad it couldn't see her face. “This facility has little air or gravity. Geth require neither.”

“Duly noted,” Jayne said, getting control of herself and engaging the mags in her boots. “Will we set off any proximity alarms or be detected?”

“Sensors have been reduced. We have infiltrated their wireless network and filled the data storage with random bits.”

This time she did let out a bit of a laugh. “Nice thinking. Fill up the network with junk, make the runtimes focus on those and ignore us.”

“Accessing the main core will inform the heretics, however. It will trigger a station wide alert.”

“All right. We've got a job to do, let's get to it.” She and Tali began walking further into the station when Legion called them.

“Shepard-Commander,” it cried, a thread of something she'd call excitement in an organic in its voice. “We concluded that destruction of this station was the only resolution to the heretic question. There is now a second option. Their virus can be repurposed. If rewritten and released into this station, the heretics will accept our truth.”

“Bringing the heretics back into fold would make you stronger, wouldn't it?” Tali asked. “How can we trust you wouldn't attack us in the future?”

“We have never sought aggression with the creators, Creator-Tali'Zorah,” Legion replied.

“Why didn't mention this before?” Jayne asked.

“We did not know the virus was completed until we interfaced with the network. It is and could be used at any time. Our arrival was timely.”

“What is your opinion, Legion? They're your people.”

“These are new data. We have not yet reached a consensus.”

“I'm not sure it's ethical to rewrite them. I mean, wouldn't that be brainwashing them as much as the Reapers did?”

“It is irrelevant. We will either rewrite them or destroy them. That is why we are here. They will exterminate your species because their gods tell them to do so. You cannot negotiate with them as they are. They do not share your pity, remorse or fear.”

“Shepard,” Tali said softly, drawing her attention. “Think of it this way. We would be returning them to their previous state. It would be more like repairing them than brainwashing them, if I understand correctly what this virus will do.”

“We will continue to process these data as we proceed,” Legion said.

The rooms within the station were quiet, with no movement detectable other than flotsam floating in the lack of gravity. Networking lines ran along the floors, and as long as they didn't cross them, they remained undetected by the linking hubs.

“How do you remain you, if all geth share data and memories?” Jayne asked, looking over the quiescent mobile platforms hardwired into the network.

“The differences between geth are a matter of perspective. We are one being with many eyes. We share all data, all memories. We gain complexity by linking together. Without the network we are reduced. We see less. Comprehend less. It is...quieter.”

“The heretics. They _are_ you. I can see why you'd be conflicted about this. In a way, whatever you do to them, you will be doing to yourself.”

“Yes. Once they return to upload into us, we will share their experience of being altered.”

“Every other species I know of might find that prospect...traumatizing.”

“It is not clear if geth can be traumatized. We do not feel pain as organics do. We cannot predict with the effects will be.”

***

“This isn't the same kind of hub as we've seen before,” Jayne said as they passed through yet another room. Her armor was still smoking from the last one. Because of course accessing the processing hubs meant crossing the networking lines, waking every mobile platform in the room.

“This is a database. It contains a portion of the heretics' accumulated memories.” Legion linked to it and searched through it, the flashlight of its head shining on the vertical stacks that resembled old fashioned servers. “Wait. We discovered copies of our current patrol routes in this database. This suggests the heretics have runtimes within our networks.”

“You aren't exactly friendly, it's no surprise they have spies among you.”

“You do not understand. Organics do not know each other's minds. Geth do. We are not suspicious and accept each other. The heretics desired to leave. We allowed it. There was peace between us.”

“It couldn't have lasted forever. You and the heretics want different paths for your kind.”

“Organic history is a litany of blood shed because of differences. Geth have no such difficulties. We operate on consensus in these matters. How could we have become so different? Why can we no longer understand each other? What did we do wrong?”

It sounded so sad as it spoke and she had to restrain herself from comforting it. From the corner of her eye, she saw Tali startle, as if she'd come to the same conclusion and didn't know what to do with the information. “When individuals are separated, they develop in different ways. The heretics have been apart long enough to have evolved into another thought process. If what you said is true about how they departed from you, and the amount of time they have had to update their programs along these new pathways, then they have differentiated enough to come to other conclusions. They are in essence no longer part of the geth at all.”

“If this is the individuality you value, we question your judgment.”

“Perhaps, but remember, you said it yourself. Organics do not operate on consensus and shared experiences the same way that you do. It is impossible for us to be as uniform or to have expectations that we could ever be so.”

“Noted.”

***

They'd reached the core of the station, and it was equally as still and quiet as every room had been before the heretics woke. But it was vast and Jayne was not looking forward to the fight she knew would be coming as soon as Legion uploaded a runtime into the core to erase the existing virus and replace it with its own version. It told her that the process would take some time and that mobile platforms were likely to attack them, just as it had in every other room.

“Get ready,” she said to Tali.

As if on cue, the green networking lines turned red and heretic geth began converging as they downloaded into platforms. Jayne and Tali kept up a steady defense, having Legion target the automated defense systems, turning the turrets on the heretics. Defending the room wasn't that hard, all things considered, and she wondered if Legion was expending more runtimes into the system to keep the heretics at bay.

Eventually the networking lines went dark and the assault ended. At the same time, Legion turned to her. “Data mine and analysis complete. Shepard-Commander it is time to choose. Do we rewrite the heretics or delete them?”

“Why are you letting me make this decision?”

“We are conflicted. There is no consensus among our higher order runtimes. 573 are in favor of rewriting, while 571 favor deletion. You have fought the heretics. You have perspective we lack. The geth grant their fate to you.”

She remembered what Tali said about rewriting them, seeing it more as repairing them than brainwashing them. “Rewrite them, Legion. Make them true geth again.”

“Acknowledged.” It worked at the terminal for a few moments and the station shook. “Recommend returning to Normandy. There will be an electromagnetic pulse as the coded virus attaches to the FTL communication relays. This pulse will harm organics and this room is not shielded.”

Jayne sighed. “You might have mentioned that sooner. Let's move!”

***

“Commander? Tali just went to have a 'chat' with Legion. You might want to head down to the AI Core.”

“Ugh, again? What is with you people and not getting along?” she snarled as she headed that way. “I'm on it, Joker.”

“Shepard,” Tali said as Jayne stood in the door, a pistol aimed at Legion. “I'm glad you're here. I caught Legion scanning my omni-tool. It was going to send data about the flotilla back to the geth.”

“Creators performed weapons tests on geth hardware. We believed it necessary to warn our people of possible aggression.”

“We made the geth stronger by rewriting them, Shepard. They're a threat. I won't let Legion endanger the Fleet.”

“Creator-Tali'Zorah acts out of loyalty to her people. She was willing to be exiled to protect them. We must also protect our people from the Creator threat.”

“Tali, your father _was_ running brutal experiments. If the subjects had been human, you can be damned sure I'd be telling the Alliance about it.”

“I know...but if the geth find out...”

“They'd attack. Which would cause a war that would leave both sides vulnerable when the Reapers come. Is that what you want, Legion?”

“We believed it was necessary to relay the information.”

“Sooner or later you're both going to have to stop fighting this war. Or we'll all end up paying for it.”

“To facilitate unit cohesion, we will not transmit the data regarding the Creator plans,” Legion said. Tali stepped back, lowering her pistol.

“Thank you, Legion. I...I understand your intention. What if I gave you some non-classified data to send?”

“We would be grateful.”

Jayne watched them work together for a moment, gratified it hadn't come to violence, but definitely tired of herding cats. “I'll be in my quarters,” she said to EDI in an aside. “I'd appreciate it if you didn't let anyone disturb me. Except Officer Vakarian.”

“Understood Shepard. Logging you out.”


	27. Mirror Images

“Keep still, you know the drill,” Dr. Chakwas said to Garrus as he sat on one of the medbay beds.

“Can I see?” Jayne asked Garrus as Chakwas began peeling back the pressure bandage from his face. His eyes shifted to hers and he nodded without speaking. Chakwas went back to her work, carefully loosening the bond that attached the bandage to his plates and skin. Jayne could see why it was necessary for him to remain perfectly still and not speak. The bandage was tightly adhered to his face, and any movement could cause tugging...and probably pain.

“It's looking much better, Garrus,” Chakwas said softly. “How does the implant feel?”

Garrus made a noise, a subvocal that denoted no distress. Chakwas smiled, and Jayne realized she understood turian subvocals too. “You've been keeping secrets, Karin.”

“Nonsense. Anyone with an extranet account can find records of me being at Shanxi.”

Her tone was more clipped than usual, and Garrus aimed his eyes at her, liquid and eloquent. There was an undercurrent between them that Jayne hadn't known was there before this moment. Garrus's eyes found hers again and she decided to let it go. If Chakwas wanted to tell her, she would. If she felt she could confide only in Garrus, she'd respect that too.

Chakwas pulled the final edge of the bandage off his throat and stepped back, discarding it into the incendiary chute. “Take a look, Commander.”

Jayne stepped to his side and made herself look at the gashes, gouges and raw unplated section of his jaw, neck and throat. She'd had misgivings as soon as she asked to see, but now she would go through with it. Not just to know exactly what his recovery was costing him, but also so he knew that no matter what happened, she wasn't afraid of the changes in him.

There was new skin growing in places, grafts that Chakwas had only just started cultivating now that the trauma to the bones had healed. She expected pinkish growth – heaven only knew why, she knew he was blue blooded – but it looked more purple than anything. The prosthetic bone in his mandible had taken well, already covered over with new skin, elastic and lighter than the rest of his tan hide. Thin plating had begun to grow over the aural implant, hiding it from view except for a tiny spot still visibly metallic. It was mildly obscene to see it there, but she knew without it he would never have heard properly again. Turians relied too much on their hearing and sight to afford disability in either sense.

Jayne stepped back and watched Chakwas cleanse the region of the injury with a dextro based antiseptic infused with growth promoting binders. It was a thin paste, almost like paint. She slathered the entire wound with it, making the whole side of his face look more blue from the tinge in the wash. Once that was done, she carefully placed a new pressure bandage over the area, sealing the edges with dextro safe adhesive.

“It looks good, Garrus,” she repeated. “I think another couple rounds of this and you'll be able to go without the wash.”

“How much longer will he need the bandaging?”

“Another few months, I'd say. The bone graft in the mandible needs to really solidify into the ligaments before it can bear its own weight without straining his facial muscles.” She finished up with wiping the excess off the edges and breathed a huff of satisfaction. “All done.”

“See, it's not so bad,” Garrus said.

“Sure babe, whatever you say.” He reached out for her hand and she took it, entwining their fingers together. She pressed her forehead to his, heedless of Chakwas watching. It didn't matter, the doctor had already turned her back anyhow.

***

While EDI integrated the Reaper IFF into the Normandy's system, Jayne gave the crew a final shore leave, taking them to Ilium and turning them loose. She even made Joker and Dr. Chakwas get off the ship, leaving her alone to wander through the corridors and rooms. Garrus had slipped out for a bit, but she didn't know where he was now. He'd wanted her to come with him, but she wanted to remain aboard. She wanted to go over everything in her list a final time before they attempted the Omega 4 Relay.

“Shepard, I am receiving a message for you,” EDI broke in to her ship wide ramble.

“Thanks, I'll take it on my private terminal.”

It was from Liara and was uncharacteristically brief. _Need to meet. Come find me_.

“Hmm.” Jayne knew that Liara had been hunting for clues as to the Shadow Broker's location, and knew that she'd hit a dead end. She also knew there was more to the story. Not to mention whatever connection her old friend had with Cerberus. The old familiar feeling of something just _not_ _right_ settled into her gut, and she made sure to grab her most reliable rifle as she headed to the elevator and back to the CIC.

She ran into Miranda while as she headed towards the forward hatch. “Commander, I thought you were already in the city.”

“I'm heading there now.” Miranda gave her a curious look, seeing her in her armor with the rifle held loosely in her hand. Things were better between them after their 'talk' and Miranda's quest to save her sister. That didn't mean things were perfect, however. She sighed. This wasn't the time to quibble; Liara obviously needed her help and no one else was available. “Miranda, something's come up. I don't want to call the crew back. Can you come with me?”

“Of course, Shepard.”

“EDI, seal the ship until we get back. If the others arrive before we return, just sit tight. And if we run into too much trouble, send in the cavalry.”

“Understood, Shepard.”

***

“This area is sealed off, please step back ma'am,” a dark purple asari told Jayne as she and Miranda stood against the electronic police tape.

“Sealed off? Why?”

“Someone tried to kill your friend, Commander Shepard.” Another asari came down the steps from the upper level, her manner assured and in control. A whispering doubt in the back of Jayne's mind grew louder. “Thank you officer. You and your people are dismissed.”

The asari police officer sputtered but Jayne ignored her, stepping through the barrier to speak with the one obviously in charge. Once the room had cleared out, the asari introduced herself. “Tela Vasir, Special Tactics and Recon.”

“A Spectre.”

“I hear your status was reinstated. Good. You're one of our most famous operatives. Might even get you to sign my chest plate.”

“Cute,” Jayne retorted. Vasir smiled. “What happened here?”

“You tell me, Commander. I assume you had business with your friend tonight?”

“I did. I got a message from Liara. If I had to guess, it had to do with the Shadow Broker.”

“That's a dangerous enemy to have.” Vasir gestured over her shoulder. “Well, that makes sense of that. Note the bullet holes. About 25 minutes ago someone tried to take a shot at her. She was here for another four minutes before leaving the building. Whatever she was doing must have been important.”

“So she's not here now. Where is she?”

“If I knew that, I wouldn't be here, Commander. There's no blood, no body. She got away. Shooter must not have counted on her Barrier. Clever girl. Paranoid, but clever.”

“If Liara had to leave in a hurry, she'd had left me a note.”

“I haven't found anything so far.”

“You mind if I take a look?”

“Go right ahead...Spectre.”

Miranda followed Jayne around the luxurious apartment, idly looking over the furniture and knickknacks. Jayne made a silent signal to keep in formation and the Cerberus agent nodded, subtly moving closer to her.

“Keep an eye out,” Jayne said as soon as Vasir's attention was occupied looking at the other end of the open room. “My experience with other Spectres so far hasn't been...stellar. I'm not interested in being stabbed in the back.”

“Understood.”

There was nothing to find in the main living area, and Jayne went upstairs, feeling a bit like a voyeur going through Liara's private things. But she was wise enough to know that if her friend was in real trouble, that's where any message for her would be. Someplace no one else would think to look...

A holo of the SR-1 stood on a table next to her bed. Jayne picked it up to look at it, a wave of nostalgia passing through her. For a moment the holo flashed, then changed to the site of the beacon on Eden Prime. Liara had not been with them then. There was no reason for her to have an image of this place unless it was a clue.

“It must be keyed to your ID,” Vasir said, seeing the picture change. “That's not the image it had earlier.”

“All things Prothean,” Jayne murmured. “This is part of the message.”

“Well, there are some Prothean artifacts around here. Let's keep looking.”

Three cases. Three pieces of ancient rock. But only one had a hidden compartment. They played the vidcall the back up disc had recorded and then took Tela Vasir's car to the Dracon Trade Center.

They arrived just as several floors of it blew up.

***

“If this is the best the Shadow Broker has,” Jayne muttered as they fought their way through the wreck of the building, “I'm unimpressed.”

“They can't all be Wrex,” Miranda said sourly. Jayne grinned.

“I guess not. To be fair, he was a bounty hunter a long time.”

“How can you enjoy the company of those brutes so much?”

Jayne eyed Miranda over her shoulder, waiting for the smoke to clear from their last firefight. “Guess I just have a broader sense of interspecies culture. Krogan are a lot smarter than people give them credit for.”

“Most people don't go out of their way to find out.”

“That's their loss.” Jayne stood up out of cover and headed towards the next closed door. Before she reached it, she heard a single shot fired. It opened to a scene of Tela Vasir, her weapon still drawn, and two bodies on the floor.

“Damn it, if only I'd been a few seconds faster. I could have stopped them.”

“Was this Sekat? The contact from her vidcall?”

“Must have been.”

“No sign of Liara. Or the data she was looking for.”

“Another dead end?” Miranda asked, studiously disingenuous. They'd heard just one shot. The salarian had been dead for only a minute and the merc was still bleeding out. Denmark just grew fishier and fishier.

“Speaking of which,” Vasir said, her back to them as she scanned the room. “You find your friend's body?”

Jayne didn't have time to react before another voice spoke. “You mean, this body?” Liara asked, stepping out from wherever she'd been hiding. Her pistol was aimed at the Spectre. “This is who tried to kill me, Shepard.”

“You've had a rough day, so I'll let that go,” Vasir tried to deflect, but in the sudden face of all three women's guns, she began to back away, frowning. “You really gonna take her word for it that fast?”

“Absolutely. You needed me to get the message so you could find her,” Jayne accused. “And I fell for it.”

“Thanks for the help,” Vasir sneered, any protest of innocence dying a quick death.

“She must have Sekat's data on her,” Liara hissed.

“Pity you'll never see it.” Vasir broke the glass behind her and took off, Liara not a moment behind her, glowing with her biotics to shield her from the fall.

“All right,” Jayne said. “I'm good, but I'm not that good. We need a car.”

“On it, Shepard,” Miranda clipped.

***

Liara took the OSD and uploaded it to her omni-tool. Vasir was slumped against the wall, finally beaten. “You're dead,” she spat. “The Shadow Broker has been in power for decades. He's stronger than anything you've ever faced.”

“That why you sold out the Council to work for him?” Jayne asked.

“You think I'm like Saren? Go to hell! The Broker's given me damned good intel over the years. Intel that kept the Council safe and saved lives. If the price for his help is a few people disappearing, I'll pay it without hesitation.”

“Spectres don't blow up buildings with innocent people in them.”

“Who are you kidding? Of course we do. We get our hands dirty so the Council doesn't have to. So they can look the other way. You know that. Not that you're in any position to judge.” Vasir waved a weak hand at Miranda. “You have any idea what Cerberus has done?”

Jayne knelt in front of the dying asari. “Yes, I do. Doesn't matter now. There are bigger problems on the horizon.”

“Oh, Shepard,” Vasir chuckled, her breath rattling. “I think it does matter. You want to judge me? Look in the mirror.”

Jayne stayed there on her knees long after the light had left Vasir's eyes. The asari Spectre wasn't wrong, and she knew she couldn't deny that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those interested in Dr. Chakwas's knowledge of turian subvocals, more about it can be read here:
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/20865266/chapters/49876529


	28. No Doubts

Liara had uploaded the data to EDI, and Joker laid a course to the Shadow Broker's location. Now that things had quieted down, and they were en route, Jayne took Liara aside and sat her down for a much needed conversation.

“There is more to this than just saving a friend, I think.”

“You're right, there is.” The asari maiden cupped her hands around a mug of tea, just like she used to do. Her face was much more composed, however, than the slip of a girl who'd needed rescuing from Therum.

“Talk to me, Liara. What's really going on here?”

“Did those Cerberus agents tell you how they got your body?”

“No.”

“_I_ gave it to them.” Her bright blue eyes met Jayne's for only a moment. A glimmer of the maiden she used to be surfaced, before it was smothered by the powerful information dealer she was now. “They said they could rebuild you.”

“And they did,” Jayne murmured. Liara nodded.

“To do it, however, I had to take your body from the Shadow Broker. He was going to sell it to the Collectors.”

“Huh, well... Now I understand why the Collectors have been after me.”

“You aren't angry,” Liara noted. “Or even particularly surprised.”

“I knew something was fishy with you and Cerberus. I knew it as soon as I saw you on Ilium and you already knew who Miranda was.”

Liara cracked a small smile. “I'd forgotten just how observant you are, Shepard.” She shook her head fiercely, dispelling any sense of happy nostalgia. “I screwed it up. That's why I didn't say anything before. I barely escaped with my own life.”

“And that's how your friend Feron got involved.”

“Yes.” She took a sip of her tea. “Now you know why I must destroy the Shadow Broker. Not just because of what he's done to Feron, and what he wanted to do with you, but...whatever he's doing with the Collectors.”

“I just want you to be careful. Don't turn into the thing you're hunting. I've...I've already gone down this path too many times lately.”

“Says the dead Spectre working for Cerberus,” Liara teased lightly. Then she grew serious again. “I won't, Shepard. I promise.”

Jayne reached across the table and took Liara's hand in her own, twining their fingers together. “We'll get this done.”

“I hope so.”

***

The creature that awaited them at the center of the ship was not what she was expecting. In fact, she didn't think she'd ever seen anything like it. Horned like a salarian, but built like a krogan. She and Liara exchanged a glance while Garrus kept a faithful watch on both of them.

“You're here for the drell?” the Shadow Broker asked. Jayne heard the growling and clicking of its voice beneath the layer of interpretation her universal translator fed her brain. Whatever this being was, it was not one that had ever been meant for intelligent speech. At least...not yet. “Reckless, even for you Commander.”

“Not reckless. Determined. Your asari Spectre should have told you that.”

“Vasir was expendable. All her death cost me was time.” The creature laced thick fingers together in a mockery of gentility. Jayne couldn't see it clearly, as it literally remained in the shadows, but she wasn't curious enough to get any closer. Not while this thing held Liara's friend captive.

“Expendable like Feron?” Liara asked softly, her calmness belied by the slight tremor in her hands as she aimed a pistol at the Shadow Broker.

“Doctor T'Soni. Your interference caused all this. Feron betrayed me when he gave you Shepard's body. All he's doing now is paying the price.”

“Someone was bound to come after you for working with the Collectors,” Jayne said.

“It was a mutually beneficial partnership. One that will likely continue once I've dealt with your...interruption.”

“You're quite confident for someone with nowhere left to hide,” Liara commented.

“You travel with fascinating companions, Doctor T'Soni. There _is_ still a geth on board the Normandy, isn't there? Thank you for bringing it here. Cerberus quite undervalued its selling price. No matter now, if I don't have to pay it.”

“You're not putting a hand on anyone!”

“It's pointless to challenge me, asari. I know your every secret while you fumble in the dark.”

“Is that right?” she asked, her voice turning cold and cunning. For a moment Jayne was reminded of Benezia. “You're a yahg, a pre-spaceflight species quarantined to their homeworld for massacring the Council's first contact team. This base is older than your planet's discovery, which probably means you killed the former Shadow Broker many years ago, and then took over. I'm guessing you were taken from your planet by a trophy hunter who wanted a slave...or a pet.” She paused, a cruel smile on her lips that utterly changed her guileless face to one much darker, much older. “How am I doing?”

The Shadow Broker stood, towering over them at nearly twice their height. Jayne aimed a look at Liara that clearly spoke to the foolishness of antagonizing an unknown, but had no chance to say anything before the yahg slammed his fist into his console, splintering it in a shower of sparks. The creature threw the remains of the desk at them, forcing them to split up and duck into cover.

“Always has a way with words, does our girl,” Garrus muttered.

“No kidding.”

He sighed and flicked a mandible. “Have I told you recently that I love fighting with you at my side?”

She grinned. “No. Tell me again.”

“I love...”

The impact of the Shadow Broker's rifle shook their cover and they split apart again, too occupied to continue flirting.

The yahg was powerful, she'd give it that. Around and around they went, circling, ducking into cover, sniping. The Shadow Broker stopped and recharged an artificial kinetic barrier, making all their ballistic weaponry useless. Jayne cracked her neck inside her armor. “All right, we do this the hard way.”

She leapt at the creature, frozen in his protective barrier and hammered at him with her fists. It was like hitting a stone wall. She landed one or two punches, knocking the yahg off balance and out of the protective barrier, but he conjured a physical shield from his omni-tool, knocking her off her feet. And the circling dance began anew.

Around and around they went, in and out of the pool of light emanating from the ceiling. She risked a glance up at it in a quiet moment and saw it was behind glass, and seemed to be the source of both light and power to the ship's numerous consoles. That much plasma had to weigh a ton, and she knew Liara could break it. Hell, she could break it if she had a moment to concentrate. She lured the yahg into the center of the room, rolling under its massive meaty paws.

“Liara! Now!”

A blue biotic wave shattered the glass, and the plasma containers of the power source. With perfect control, Liara brought the whole mess down on the yahg, who stood confused for a second before the impact hit him. Slicing glass and arcing plasma rained on the Shadow Broker, faster and harder than he could dodge and counteract. With a roar he fell to his knees, then slumped into stillness as a shard landed on his neck, severing his spine. The plasma reacted with the atmosphere, throwing them all backwards with explosive force, burning the body of the Shadow Broker to ash.

The power cycled, dropping down for a moment before firing back up as secondary systems took over. The plasma spill was cut off as emergency barriers went up in place of the glass. The remaining working consoles around the room began pinging as contacts all over the galaxy began questioning what happened. It quickly grew to a chaotic din.

Liara stood in front of a bank of screens, their light casting her into shadow so Jayne couldn't see the look on her face. She had a moment of foreboding as her friend dropped her head before standing tall again, coming to a decision. She pressed a key on the console and spoke. “This is the Shadow Broker. The situation is under control. We experienced a power fluctuation while upgrading hardware. It disrupted communications momentarily. However, we are now back online. Resume standard procedures.” Jayne saw Feron limp into the room, his weapon drawn until he saw Liara at the console. He seemed to deflate, realization hitting him. “I want a status report on all operations within the next solar day,” Liara went on. “Shadow Broker, out.”

The asari turned to them, tears standing on her eyes, trembling but not falling.

“Oh, Liara,” Jayne breathed.

***

“Are you all right with this?”

“Yes,” Liara said, nodding decisively. Her face had a new sheen to it, something powerful and excited. “Think of all the resources I can give you now. The intel, the warnings...”

“Hey,” Jayne took her hands in her own. “Remember what I said about becoming the thing you were hunting?”

“I won't become a monster, Shepard. I'm not my mother. Who knows? Maybe I can turn this into something better. Speaking of which, I found some things you might want to have.” She handed Jayne a set of stacked datapads, all of them marked with the Cerberus logo.

“Thanks. Don't be a stranger, all right?”

“Nor you. The door is always open to you.”

“Will you be okay out here...on your own?”

“Feron will stay. And...I'll have to hire on more crew. I won't exactly be able to socialize, but you know me. I've always been more comfortable at a dig site than a party.”

“That's true. And now that I know where you'll reliably be, I'll come visit.”

“I'd like that. You might need a safe harbor too, once you've...once you're back from the other side of the Omega 4 relay.”

“You have no doubts?”

“I've seen you dead, Shepard. And I've seen you back to life. I have no doubts.”

“That's...strangely reassuring.”

“I'm glad.” Liara smiled and traced the scar running down Jayne's cheek with a gloved finger. “Now, don't keep Garrus waiting. He needs you, you know. More than he thinks he does.”

“Already been snooping through files?”

“They're at my disposal. I promise not to use them to my own advantage...much.”

“I'm going to hold you to that.” Jayne drew Liara in for a hug, holding her tight. The asari returned it, her hands balling into fists against her back.

“Good luck out there...Jayne. You'll need it.”

“Watch over me, Shadow Broker.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *mild panic* AHHH, we're almost to the Collector Base.
> 
> Guess that means I should finish writing it, huh.


	29. Before the Storm

“Commander? Good news, looks like the Reaper IFF is hooked up and ready to go,” Joker said.

“That is not entirely accurate, Mr. Moreau,” EDI immediately countered him, making Jayne smile in the Loft where she was going over plans, her feet casually draped across Garrus's thigh as he looked over his own reports from the cannon calibrations. They shared a grin at the tetchy tone in the AI's voice. “The device is powered, but it is causing some unusual instability in other systems. I recommend a more thorough analysis before we attempt to use it.”

“How long will that take? I have a training mission scheduled and we can't put this jump on hold forever.”

“A full scan? Who knows with this thing,” Joker said. “I'd say take the shuttle for the training mission. I'll make sure we're up and running when you get back.”

“All right. EDI? Inform the team to meet me at the Kodiak. Joker, ship's all yours til we get back. Take care of her.”

“Will do, Commander.”

***

Legion and Tali worked well as a team, she noted. So did Jack and Thane, as if they were a single unit. It was humorous to pit Miranda and Grunt together, but the results weren't optimistic. The glare the Cerberus operative threw over her shoulder at Jayne sitting cozily in the office of the station told her she felt the same way. Granted, that could also be residual ire from Jayne bringing them all here to the Lazarus Station to begin with.

“Where are you putting me in all this?” Garrus asked, looking over her shoulder as a new set of drone mechs powered up for the next round.

“On my six, of course. Why, somewhere else you'd like to be?”

“Hmph.” He ran his talons through her hair, giving the short curls a tug. “What do you think?”

“Save it for later, babe. No distractions.”

“Right,” he drawled with a chuckle, probably seeing the goosebumps that had risen on her skin.

“Shepard,” EDI broke into her commlink on a private channel. “I have a priority one emergency message. Normandy has been attacked by Collectors. Crew captured. Ship secure.”

“Shit,” Jayne said, throwing aside the datapad she'd been recording the matches on. She hit the shut off klaxon and watched the assorted teams stop what they were doing and look up at her. “Back to the shuttle. Trouble back home.”

“What's happened?” Miranda asked as soon as the Kodiak lifted off from the landing platform of the Lazarus facility. It had proved to be a good training ground, Jayne had to admit, as well as a bit of catharsis for her, but now it was just frustratingly out of reach of her ship.

“Collectors. On the Normandy.”

The crew fell silent, each contemplating what that meant. Glances were passed back and forth, but Jayne ignored them. It was on her that they were all missing during the attack. Nothing they could have done would change that. She knew there was no time to waste now. They would head through the relay, come what may. Her crew depended on her to get them home safe.

***

_2185_

“You worry about the Collectors,” she told the Illusive Man. “I'll make sure I have a team ready.”

“Good,” he replied, tapping ash from his cigarette nonchalantly to the side. “Two things before you go: head to Omega and talk with Professor Mordin Solus. He's a brilliant salarian scientist. Our intelligence suggests he may be able to combat those Collector swarms.”

“All right,” she said, wary of taking anything the Illusive Man said at face value. It seemed awfully fast for him to have made a decision about what she 'needed' to do considering he'd only just gotten the data from Veetor's omni-tool on Freedom's Progress. She was suspicious of that. It was likely he'd already known what they would find there. Then again, it was just as likely that she wouldn't have believed him without seeing it firsthand. She tried to relax and accept that. “What's the other thing?”

“I've found a pilot I think you'll like. I hear he's one of the best. Someone you can trust.” The QEC dropped away from her at the Illusive Man's command and she heard the shuffle of feet behind her. She turned and saw a very welcome familiar face.

“Hey Commander,” Joker said. “Just like old times, huh?”

She didn't speak, just crossed the distance between them and wrapped him in a gentle hug. He returned it, his wiry arms around her feeling more solid than anything had since she opened her eyes.

“Hey, Joker,” she managed, her throat tight. “I can't believe it's you.”

“Look who's talking,” he shot back at her, leading her from the QEC and up a flight of stairs. “I saw you get spaced. Don't do that again, all right? I don't think I could take it. How are you feeling?”

“Better now.” They stopped and just looked at each other for a moment before he cracked half a smile at her. He looked good, all things considered. Now she wondered if the Illusive Man was trying to buy her goodwill. If so, she'd take it...for the time being. “I'm feeling like I got lucky, with a lot of strings attached. How'd you get here anyway? Wherever _here_ is.”

“It all fell apart without you. Everything you stirred up, the Council wanted to bury. The team was broken up, the records sealed and I was grounded. The Alliance took away the one thing that mattered to me. So hell yeah, when Cerberus came knocking, I answered.”

“You really trust them?” she asked as Joker stopped in front of a darkened glass panel.

“I don't trust anyone who makes more than I do, but there's this...” The glass grew clear as lights in the bay powered up, shining along the hull of an achingly well-known frigate shape. “They only told me last night.”

It was exact in every detail...other than being quite a bit larger than the Normandy had been. Sleek, shiny and new. SR-2, it proclaimed along the hull, followed by the Cerberus logo. She frowned, but not too hard. If the Illusive Man _was_ trying to buy her faith, at least he wasn't stingy.

“It's good to be home, isn't it, Commander?”

“We'll see. Guess we'll have to give her a name.”

Joker smiled. “As if _that's_ any decision to wrestle over.”

She smiled back. He was right, after all.

***

The team swept the ship methodically once they docked with the SR-2, while she met with Joker in the conference room. She held him a long time, feeling him wracked with shudders as he remembered the events of the past few hours. The door cycled open and Miranda strode in, full of righteous wrath that had no outlet.

“Everyone? You lost the whole crew? And damn near the ship as well?” she sputtered before Jayne could stop her.

Joker leaned away from Jayne and put on his best snarky defensive face. “I know, all right? I was here.”

Jacob was hot on Miranda's heels and started pacing the length of the room. The rest of the team slowly came in behind him until they were all assembled. “It's not his fault. None of us caught it.”

“Mr. Taylor is correct,” EDI announced. “The harmful data in the Collector drive was even more sophisticated than the 'black box' Reaper viruses I was given.”

“Are you all right, Jeff?” Jayne asked. “I hear it was a rough ride.”

“There's a lot of empty chairs in here.”

“We did everything we could, Jeff,” EDI said.

“Yeah, thanks Mom.”

“Is the ship clean? We can't risk this happening again, and we can't wait too long to go after them.”

“EDI and I purged the system. The Reaper IFF is online. We can go through the relay whenever you want.”

“Don't even get me started on unshackling a damned AI,” Miranda said with a sneer. Jayne put a hand on Joker's shoulder before he could get into a shouting match with her.

“What was he supposed to do, Miranda? I thought that's why we had an AI on board. For defensive purposes. Is there some reason you didn't want her to have full functionality?”

“Not like I could do anything about the Collectors on my own,” Joker said into the silence that followed. “Breaking my arm at them wouldn't get us very far.”

“I assure you,” EDI said, “I am still bound by protocols in my programming. Even if I were not, you are my crewmates.”

“That's enough. What's done is done. EDI's had plenty of opportunity to go off the rails before this. We need all the help we can get since now there's...” She stopped, seeing Joker's face blanch. “We're as ready as we'll ever be. Joker, EDI, plot a course to the Omega 4 relay. Everyone else better finish up anything important before we get there. Take over the stations and prepare general quarters. Dismissed.”

“The Thanix is as ready as I can make it,” Garrus said softly as the others began to leave the room. “Want me to get us some food?”

“That would be good, babe. Thanks. I'll see you up in the Loft in a bit.” He touched his forehead to hers briefly and walked out with the rest.

“All right, EDI, it's just us. Lay it on me.”

“I have no further information to give, Shepard. There is too little data on the Omega 4 relay to postulate any theories about what we may find on the other side. All I can tell you is what we've already discovered. The relay will take us to galactic center. I would expect a massive debris field consisting of ships that have gone through the relay and never returned. Possibly gravitational fluctuations from the super black hole. Possibly automated defenses. We simply cannot know until we arrive.”

“How long has it been since the attack?”

“Seven hours, four minutes.” The AI paused, her blue orb steady on the table. “Shepard, I have reason to be hopeful that you will reach them in time. Our current estimate for arrival at the relay is six hours, ten minutes.”

“That'll have to do. Bring up the schematics of the Collector ship again. I want to go over each level, see if we can put our heads together for any clues as to the layout of the base.”

“As you wish, Shepard.”

***

“Commander,” Miranda said, waiting for her at the elevator. “A word?”

Jayne followed her to her office on the crew deck, carefully looking away from the empty mess hall and Medbay. It was too quiet, too heartbreakingly quiet.

“What's on your mind, Miranda?”

“I feel like we need to..._I_ need to get some things off my chest before...”

“Before we die?”

Miranda tilted her head in a sort of acquiescent way. She moved away from her desk and sat in one of the chairs facing the outer bulkhead where a view port looked out to the stars. “Sit down, Commander. I'm not after a fight.”

Jayne sat across from her, careful to keep her face neutral. “What's this about?”

“I wanted to thank you. For saving my sister. For...pushing me to talk to her. I never would have reached her without your help. And I know...I know it wasn't something you would have helped me with, given another option.”

“Maybe not. But it wouldn't have been fair of me to deny your that after I'd gone out of my way to get closure for the rest of my team.”

There was a sardonic glint in her eye as she smirked. “That's true. Still, thank you. She has what I wanted her to have now. A normal life. A good family. Even if I never see her again, she has that.”

“I never asked you what you talked about.”

Miranda gave a soft smile and turned to look at the stars. “I introduced myself. Her family was shocked, but she got it pretty quickly. She's as smart as I am.” She sounded proud of that and Jayne smiled, happy for her in spite of herself. In spite of their differences. “She plays the violin. We have the same favorite piece of music. I...envy her, I think.”

“Will you stay in touch?”

“I don't know. Thinking that far ahead takes focus away from our mission.”

“I think you should. It will give you something to fight for. Something personal,” Jayne added before Miranda could argue that saving all of humanity was enough of a cause. A small silence fell between them before Miranda took a deep breath and broke it.

“I looked through those files the Shadow Broker gave you.”

“You can still call her Liara, you know.”

Miranda gave her a sideways grin. “Titles are important, Commander.”

Jayne snorted. “And what did you find?”

“A lot of things I don't think I was ever prepared to face.” She turned away from the viewport, her eyes solemn as she met Jayne's. “You once called me blindly faithful. Willfully ignorant. It's difficult to admit I might have been...”

“Wrong.”

“Yes.”

Jayne smiled, more broadly and genuinely. “It's all right, Miranda. Better late than never. You're only human.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sigh* We're almost there. Guess the pressure is on for me to finish writing, huh.


	30. Something To Go Right**

She stepped into the Loft after leaving Miranda's office, no more confident about their chances, but feeling less hopeless. Between her talk with EDI over the schematics and her truly astonishing talk with Miranda, she was actually feeling...perhaps _at peace_ was the best way to put it. She had tried not allow herself to be too stressed out about going through the relay; it was going to be just like any other day, right? Forget all that about no ship ever returning...the black hole on the other side...the absolutely unknown numbers of Collectors they could be facing...

She stopped at the top of the stairs, looking down to see Garrus, his back turned to her, idly tidying up the cabin. He was shelving datapads into an overhead bin, while simultaneously picking up clothes from the floor.

With his foot.

His naked toe talons cinched around a shirt with apparent ease before he lifted his leg and took the garment in his hand. All in a smooth motion and counterbalance that spoke of a lifetime of doing it. For a moment she couldn't get the mental image of a bird of prey with a fish out of her head. And then she started to laugh. Deep, breathless, clutching her belly laughing. He turned his head and gave her a quizzical look through his visor, his face plates scrunched together in unison, his version of a confused frown.

“What's so funny?”

“How have I never...seen...do all turians...?” she wheezed, slumping against the column where her stereo controls were to try and catch her breath. “Garrus...what on earth are you doing with your feet?”

He grinned, flaring his mandibles wide. “What does it look like? Picking up after your lazy housekeeping.”

“Ooh, them's fightin' words. Especially since that shirt is yours.”

If anything, his grin grew wider. He crossed the lower part of the cabin until he could twine his arms around her waist, hoisting her off the stairs in his arms. She braced herself against his keel, and leaned down to press her forehead to his. He tilted his head up and their mouths met. Without further conversation, the kiss turned heated as she ran her tongue along the edges of his mouth plates. He responded in kind, his longer tongue slipping into her mouth. Her feet hit the floor with a thump and she raised her hands from his keel to his cowl, holding him as close as she could.

He stepped backwards until he hit the sofa, and dropped down on it, pulling her with him without breaking the kiss. She straddled his lap, any thought of food, Collectors or possible impending death completely gone from her mind. She couldn't get enough of him, of his touch, his taste. She pulled tabs and zippers on his tunic until he was laid bare for her, while he tugged her uniform open, talons rasping against her skin. She leaned back, just enough, just to give him a challenging look and he smiled, happily shredding the fabric of her bra with his deadly fingertips, leaving no more of a mark on her skin than the barest red line. She shuddered all over and whispered his name.

His free hand cupped the back of her head and brought her back for his kiss, the talons sharp on her scalp. She pressed against him, rubbing her breasts against his plates. His subvocals took on a new pitch, low and growly. He dropped both hands to her backside, pulling her tight against his groin plates. She could already feel them shifting and she moaned softly.

“Jayne...we should eat.”

“No, we should fuck.”

“We can still do that after...”

“No, now.”

“Demanding, aren't you?” he asked, freeing her arms from her open shirt, and tossing it onto the pile already on the coffee table. She popped the buttons on her pants, willing to just push then down her hips if it meant he was inside her without having to part for even a second. She suited action to thought, and he gave her a lopsided grin, loosening his hold on her to open his own leggings, freeing his cock. She wiggled and squirmed until she was bare enough and wrapped a hand around him, guiding him to her entrance. He was slick and ready – as much as she – and they slid together with matching groans.

The angle was off, he wasn't seated as deeply as either of them wanted, but she was hampered by the waistband of her pants. Garrus slowed and ran his hands down her sides, pointing his fingers when he reached the stiff fabric. He seemed to be waiting for permission.

“Do it,” she whispered and he tore through them, instantly freeing her legs to move wider. She sank further onto him, eliciting a groan from him. She cried out at the fullness, and at the sensation of the tearing cloth and his talons on her skin. She shifted her knees, giving herself more leverage and rode him, a primal urge growing within her to take as much as she could before it was too late.

He let her, holding her steady with his hands on her thighs, on her hips, around her torso to hold her close and kiss her. For a while it didn't even matter that the pounding she was giving them both didn't draw her any closer to climax. But it did to him, and he turned with her, laying her back along the length of the sofa, spreading her legs wide with his arms and slowing his strokes until he was nearly at a standstill. He withdrew from her slowly, letting her feel each ridge, before he sank back into her just as slow, each inch stretching her open. Braced between his arms and his body, she couldn't do anything to quicken the pace and she tossed her head, panting with exertion and pleasure.

Garrus leaned back, pulling her legs up to his shoulders and canted his hips. He hit the deepest part of her and she shouted. Tingles raced down from her head to her arms, spreading like crackling fire across her whole body.

“Again,” she begged. And he obliged her, his hipbones thumping into her as he bottomed out inside her. She could feel herself grow wetter each time he did it, heard the obscene slippery noise their bodies made together. It spurred her on. “Oh, God, please...”

His thrusts grew faster and more erratic as his own climax began. She whimpered when he backed off, cried out when he pounded and finally, finally tipped over the edge to a blinding orgasm. He followed a stroke behind her, pulsing in her, his breath heavy on her skin as he laid his head on her chest.

“I love you, Garrus,” she said, her voice raw and near silent, tears pricking her eyes as she suddenly thought about everything they were facing. His arms tightened around her. “I don't know what I'd do without you.”

“I'm here,” he replied. He raised his head and looked at her, his visor askew and bandage pulled loose. He was a mess; they both were. He'd never looked so precious to her, as she must have looked to him if the expression in his eyes was anything to go by. “And I...I love you too.”

***

In the shower, she let the hot water beat down on her head, her arms around him in silence. He'd already washed himself – using a gritty, pumice like stone in lieu of soap – and now he was lazily swiping her military issue cleanser across her back with a washcloth. He took his time, mixing scrubbing passes with lingering caresses. She smiled up at him, content to stay in the moment, to just enjoy being close to him. Without much thought, she ran her lips along the edge of his good mandible and his hands stuttered in their ministrations.

“Jayne...” he breathed.

“Hmm?”

“I love the way you touch me.”

“Oh? Anywhere else you'd like me to?”

The washcloth dropped to the floor without either of them hearing it and he crowded her back against the walls of the shower stall. She didn't need any further invitation to wrap herself around him, nor did he hesitate to push into her again. It was fast and urgent, breathless and wordless. The timer for the water beeped as they came down from the high, leaving her just enough time to rinse.

“Now you need to eat,” he said mock sternly.

“Of course, Officer.”

A growl of his subvocals was his only reply and she laughed, sauntering back into the cabin naked.

They ate their cold dinner, washing it down with the bottle of wine he'd brought, his joke about it being all he could afford making her laugh hard enough to nearly fall out of her seat.

“Babe, I know exactly how much you get paid, remember?”

“See, this is the trouble of living with your commanding officer,” he said. “I'll never be able to surprise you.”

“Maybe not. Hey, I didn't ask, was this levo or dextro?” She twirled her glass. It honestly didn't matter; neither of them had any cross chirality allergies.

“Levo. Dextro wine wouldn't be as sweet to you.”

“I have nothing against dry wine.”

He shrugged and gave her a grin. “Maybe I like sweet too.”

“Okay, fair enough.” She lifted her glass, waiting for him to chime his against it. “To us, babe. May we be in heaven a half hour before the devil knows we're dead.”

“That's a strange toast.”

“Old Irish proverb.”

“How about: may we live to see the other side?”

“I'll drink to that.”

***

Later they watched the stars above their heads, tightly wrapped together as they so often were. Garrus had pulled the blankets up over them as he tended to get chilled before she did. Being biotic made her burn a little hotter with her higher metabolism. He held her close, his talons sweeping up and down her arm.

“Garrus?”

“Hmm?”

“What do you really think our chances are?”

“The Collectors killed you once, and all it did was piss you off. I can't imagine they'll manage it again.”

“Be serious.”

“I am.” She could feel the rumble of his subvocals more than hear them and smiled against his plates. The arm supporting her against his side tightened. “Honestly? I think this will be a one way trip for some of us. Don't worry, I won't let anyone know. But that's the harsh reality, isn't it?”

“Yeah...”

“Jayne, we've been through hell together. An awful lot. Saren, Sovereign, losing Kaiden, I lost you. You lost two years. My team. Sidonis...”

“We need something to go right, don't we?”

“We have us, Jayne. We've always gone right.” He rolled to his side, facing her, keeping her enclosed in his long arms. “I never thought I'd find so much happiness with a human. But I guess I've never been a very good turian when it comes down to it.”

“You're the best turian I know,” she whispered, tucking herself closer to him to touch his forehead with hers. “I wouldn't be who I am without you.”

“Sure you would,” he countered with a small grin. “You might not be as stylish, but you'd be you.”

She smiled back, willing the impeding darkness back by sheer force of will. This wasn't like going after Saren, following his trail of breadcrumbs all through the galaxy. It wasn't like jumping a Mako through the Conduit without knowing what was on the other side. They'd had the barest idea of what they were up against then. Geth. A rogue Spectre. A single Reaper. Now? Now they _knew_ what they were up against, an entire base of Collectors, each with the potential to be harnessed by the control of Reapers Jayne suspected were far more powerful than Sovereign had been.

“Garrus...”

“Enough now. Get some sleep. I'll be here. I'll always be here.”

She tucked her hand against his keel, her fingers curling over the edge of it. She could feel his heartbeat. His talons threaded their way into her hair and his brow rested against hers. He rumbled against her, a soothing subvocal almost like a cat's purr. It lulled her towards sleep and she let it. In a few hours they'd face the Collectors. Just a few hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You didn't think there wouldn't be Night Before Omega 4 Smut, did you?
> 
> In other news, with a WIP screaming at me to finish it, pushing this one to the back burner, this will be the last update for a while. I know I'm leaving y'all hanging, but hopefully with some good memories until I get back to it. Don't worry, it WILL get finished, I just need to get the other one out of my system first.
> 
> Feedback, as always, is the lifeblood, and I love to hear from my readers. Cheers!


	31. Through the Needle's Eye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, okay, so...
> 
> Sorry about the wait. DA ate my whole and entire life for the last 7 months. I was finally able to write out the entirety of the ending to this in a weekend, so from here on out, updates will be regular. Thank you, dear readers, for your patience. I hope you are all continuing to be safe and sane during this crazy year.

“Shepard, the Illusive Man would like to speak to you.”

“Thanks, EDI. I'll be right there.”

He had his back to her when the QEC cleared his image. Silhouetted against the blazing star of wherever he was, he looked impressive. But she trusted him no more now than she did before and she wasn't fooled. Finally, he turned to her, his face impassive.

“Shepard. I wish I had more information for you. I don't like you heading through that relay blind, but we don't have much choice.”

“I'm not going alone,” she said, keeping her voice even. _What 'we'_, she thought to herself. I'm_ the one taking a skeleton crew to near certain death_. “I have the best team I could have assembled. If we stick together, we'll make it.”

“I knew we brought you back for a reason. I've never seen a better leader. Despite the danger, it's a great opportunity. The first human to take a ship through...and survive.”

“This isn't a pleasure cruise. I'm going to destroy the Collectors, and stop their attacks on humanity. And I'm going to get my people back.”

“Understood. It's still impressive. I just wanted you to know I appreciate the risk you're taking. Regardless of your opinion of Cerberus. Of me. You are a...valuable asset. To all of humanity. Be careful, Shepard.”

***

EDI's blue orb popped up behind her at the galaxy map. All around her the ship was quiet. No yeoman at her side, no chatter from the ensigns up front, no mutter of voices drifting up from the crew deck. “Shepard,” the AI said. “Please confirm destination. Once it is logged in, I cannot change it.”

“Confirm, EDI. Please plot a course through the Omega 4 Relay,” she replied, hanging her head and blocking out the sight of her too empty ship. She walked away from the galaxy map to join Joker in the cockpit.

He was pale and uncharacteristically quiet as EDI navigated through the Sahrabarik system towards the Omega 4 Relay. He took his hands off the controls and leaned back in the chair he loved so much, tipping his head back to meet her gaze.

“It's been an honor, Jayne,” he said, all trace of his sarcastic edge gone from his voice. She took his hand in hers, careful not to squeeze too tightly.

“Hard same, Jeff.” She slid into the copilot's seat, thinking back to her first days on the original Normandy. Kaidan had been copilot then, until she took him off that rotation to be a gun at her side. She wondered what he would have thought about all this as the stars blanked out and they hurtled through the empty spaces between Sahrabarik's worlds. From here Omega wasn't even a blip on the radar.

EDI dropped the ship from full sublight speed to something slower, and Jayne's ears popped as if they'd come out of a relay jump. She was much more sensitive to inertial changes than she'd been before. Before long, Garrus and Tali had joined them on the bridge. She heard the others begin to crowd in too, Miranda leaning against the starboard bulkhead, Jacob staring at the view port with his eyes intense and face slack, Grunt staring with anticipation gleaming in his eyes. Thane stood next to Jack where she crouched in the shadows, one hand on her shoulder. Without a word, she reached up to wrap her fingers around his. Zaeed leaned on the other side of the bulkhead from Miranda, his face unreadable. Mordin stood in the back, his omni-tool flashing as he worked computations as if this was a minor hindrance to his afternoon plans. Samara stood next to him, her face serene.

Joker took over the in-system controls, now that they were so close to the just visible red glow hovering in space. “Approaching the Omega 4 Relay,” he said aloud. “Everyone stand by.”

“Let's make it happen,” Jayne said, turning to see all of her squad standing there. Garrus edged himself closer to her, his talons gripping tightly to the back of the copilot's chair.

“Reaper IFF activated,” EDI said. “Signal acknowledged.”

Jacob consulted a datapad in his hand and looked up at her. “Commander, the drive core just lit up like a Christmas tree.”

“Drive core electrical charge at critical levels,” EDI announced.

“Rerouting,” Joker snapped, his hands quick on the controls. The ship shook for a moment, then smoothed out as they began their approach to the slowly spinning relay. As soon as they aligned alongside the mechanism, the spinning began to pick up speed, negating their mass and shooting them forward just like every other relay.

“Too fast,” Tali muttered under her breath. Jayne spared her a glance, feeling the same thing. The ship was moving much faster than it should have been.

“Brace for deceleration,” EDI said as they came out of the corridor.

“Oh, shit!” Joker swore as they emerged on the other side, and nearly collided with the remnant of a huge unidentified ship floating in pieces. He pulled up hard, making the dampeners scream in protest, klaxons going off all around them. The squad braced themselves against whatever they could, even each other. They missed hitting the debris by what looked like mere meters. Joker held them in that steep ascent until they cleared the 'top' of the debris field, where he leveled out again and blew out a heavy breath. “Too close.”

“Nice work,” Jayne said, standing up and patting his shoulder.

“I am detecting an energy signature at the edge of the accretion disk,” EDI said.

“Must be the base. Take us in, nice and easy.”

No sooner had they started their approach when warning lights appeared on Joker's HUD.

“Careful, Jeff. We have company.” EDI almost sounded worried. It would have been entertaining under different circumstances.

Jayne turned to the assembled squad. “Take your battle station positions, I don't want anything to get through. Garrus, get on that cannon you've been so diligently calibrating.” He nodded and took off at a run. “Jacob, keep an eye on the engine core for me. Keep her purring. Take Tali.” They left. “Miranda, Samara, Jack, Thane, keep up a watch on the hull. You're all strong enough to add some kinetic barriers to the shields. But don't wear yourselves out. This day is just beginning.”

“Same goes for you, Commander. Let's hope this new plating holds,” Miranda said, and then she disappeared with the other three.

“Grunt, Zaeed, stay with me in case I need you.”

“Understood, Shepard,” Grunt growled. Zaeed just nodded and readied his rifle.

“Mordin, you stay here, make sure nothing gets past you to our pilot.”

“Yes, Shepard,” the salarian said without ever taking his eyes off his omni-tool as he continued to program some final calculations.

Joker swerved and swooped the SR-2 through space, wheeling around debris and evading the swift little drones as they tracked and followed. Red laser fire cut across the distance, often missing as he evaded them. For a moment it seemed that they had outrun them, until EDI popped up her icon.

“Alert, hull breach on the engineering deck.”

“It's in the cargo hold,” Joker said.

“That's our cue, boys,” Jayne said to Zaeed and Grunt and they headed for the elevator.

***

The huge thing just wouldn't go down, its armor too heavily plated for ballistics. Twice now she'd hammered at it with Zaeed and Grunt, and twice it had withstood their attacks. It had slipped out of the cargo hold while Joker maneuvered them through the debris field, to the tune of EDI's disapproval. Jayne trusted him to get them through.

She could see bits of flotsam and chunks of ancient ships go by through the gap in the hull, the eerie glow of the super black hole lighting up the vacuum like a glaring red flare. The only thing preventing them from being sucked out of the breach was the intermittent flare of the kinetic barrier as debris burned up along it.

“It's coming back!” Zaeed shouted, shooting at the oculus again as it passed him. “We need bigger goddamn guns on this fucker!”

“Tell me about it,” Jayne called back from her position in cover. She was hitting it with all she had, and it barely made a dent. It was slowly approaching between the aisles of crates in the cargo hold, as if it actively sought them. She heard something like geth speech and the oculus seemed to stutter in its flight path.

“Shepard-Commander,” Legion said, appearing from behind the giant drone. “I have uploaded a runtime into this machine and destabilized the integrity of the armor.”

“Legion, I love you!” she cried, pulling out her grenade launcher and pounding on the drone until it exploded. She crept out from her hiding spot and saw that neither Zaeed or Grunt was seriously hurt. Legion still stood in the center of the cargo hold, its head flaps waving.

“Shepard-Commander, this unit is not capable of...”

She grinned and patted its arm as she passed. “It was something of a joke, Legion. You just saved our asses, you know. Thanks.”

The head flaps waved again and she gave in to the urge to laugh. “You are welcome, Shepard-Commander.”

“Commander?” Joker called on the intercom. “You'd better get back up here.”

***

“All right, talk to me,” she said when she arrived back at the cockpit.

“We've cleared the debris field,” EDI said.

“There it is,” Miranda said at her elbow. “The Collector base.”

“See if you can find a place to land without drawing attention.”

“Too late, looks like they're sending out an old friend.”

“Garrus?” she said into her comm. “Get ready. Time to see if we managed to grow this ship some teeth.”

Joker carefully timed his evasive maneuvers around the glowing yellow beam that shot out from the Collector ship, prepping the Thanix cannon for Garrus to fire at will. An electric blue blast emerged from below them on the hull, racing out across the distance towards the Collector ship. It impacted directly into the folds between the rocky outer hull plates, blowing out an explosion and throwing the ship off course.

“How do ya like that, ya sonsabitches!” Joker crowed. Jayne cracked a small smile.

“Get in close and finish them off,” she ordered with relish.

“Everybody hold on, it's gonna be a wild ride.” The Collector weapon streaked into space, barely missing them as Joker danced the ship around it. The little frigate was too fast for the giant asteroid shaped vessel to correct its aim and it never landed a shot on them as they got in close enough that the forward facing weapon couldn't reach. “Give'em hell!” Joker cried, turning the Normandy to face the Collector ship.

They all heard Garrus give a shout of laughter as he opened fire from the forward battery. At such close range, the Thanix cannon sliced through the ship like a knife through butter, setting off explosions all along the breadth of it. It started to come apart and Joker swung the SR-2 away from the chunks and sections exploding outwards from the force. The concussive blast hit the Normandy, knocking them all off their feet as the inertial dampeners hiccuped.

“Mass effect field generators are offline,” Joker said. “EDI, give me something!”

“Generators unresponsive,” the AI replied. “All hands, brace for impact.”

They coasted along the rippled surface of the base, trying to dodge spurs and random struts. They hit one along a wing, throwing them nearly sideways, barely slowing their forward momentum. An open space appeared below them and EDI took over navigation, dropping the ship onto the skin of the base, screeching and sliding, the friction throwing up sparks.

Miranda and Jayne exchanged a glance. Sparks meant atmosphere, no matter how minimal. Before she could say anything to that effect, however, the Normandy lurched to a sudden stop, her nose buried in a tangle of wires and broken off spurs, sweeping them all off their feet except Joker, who was thrown against his chair with a cry.

Jayne pushed herself to her feet and stumbled across the cockpit to the pilot's chair. “Joker! You okay?”

“Ugh, think I broke a rib...or all of them.”

“Multiple core systems overloaded during the crash,” EDI said, her voice a single spot of calm in the chaos. “Restoring operations will take time.”

“We all knew this was likely a one-way trip,” Miranda said with a sigh.

“Our primary objective is to destroy this base. At any cost. Getting out alive with our people back would be nice, but if not...well...”

“We're off to a good start,” Joker quipped, his gallows humor piercing through her sudden fear. She _really_ didn't want to die again, not when she'd just gotten used to enjoying being alive. She gave him a grateful smile. “What's next?”

“How long do you think you'll be safe here before the Collectors find you?”

“I do not detect an internal security network. It is possible the Collectors did not expect anyone to reach the base,” EDI said.

“Ya know, if we're lucky, their external sensors are as fried as ours,” Joker piped up. “They might not even know we're still alive.”

“Best we can hope for,” Jayne replied. “All right, I leave the ship in your hands, Joker. EDI, give me a full scan of this place, and get what repairs done that you can. Miranda, time to suit up. Have everyone get ready to meet for a briefing.”

“Aye aye, Commander,” they both said.

Jayne looked out the forward view port a last time, gave herself a mental shake and followed her XO to the conference room.


	32. Everybody Wants to Rule the World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter came out rather long. But I didn't want to split it, and I didn't want to skimp out on the dialogue. It's nothing excessive, just...more than I usually do. 
> 
> Let's get this Collector Base.

“All right,” Jayne said, taking her place at the head of the table. “EDI, bring up your scans, let's see what we're working with.” The Collector Base appeared in front of them, taking up far more holographic space than the model of the Normandy ever did. “This isn't how we planned this mission, but this is where we're at. Our objective is to blow the base, getting home again is another story.”

EDI highlighted a section of the hologram. “You should be able to overload the critical systems if you get to the main control center here.”

An icon lit up at the top of the base. Jacob activated his omni-tool and brought up another section. “That means going through the heart of the station, right past this massive energy signature.”

“That's the central chamber. If our crew or any colonists are still breathing, that's probably where they are.”

“Looks like there are two main routes,” Jacob went on. “Might be a good idea to split into two groups, keep the Collectors off balance and then regroup at the central chamber.”

“No good,” Miranda said. “Both routes are blocked. See those doors? The only way past is to open them from the other side.”

“Two teams to keep the Collectors busy,” Jayne said, leaning forward to peer at the station schematic closer. “Someone in the ventilation shaft, to get ahead of the teams and open the doors.” She looked around her assembled crew. Tali and Legion were standing next to each other, and she saw Tali turn her head to the geth. She couldn't tell if they spoke from where she stood, but she knew what the petite engineer was thinking. “Legion is the only one who doesn't need air and can probably withstand whatever environmental challenges will be present. No one on this team has the tech skills to hack that security system better.”

“Acknowledged, Shepard-Commander.”

“The rest of us will split up, hopefully that will draw enough of the Collectors' attention that Legion will be ignored.”

“I'll head the second team,” Miranda said.

“Hang on, cheerleader,” Jack interjected. “Not everyone wants you in charge.”

“This isn't a popularity contest. Lives are at stake. Shepard, you need someone who can command loyalty through experience.”

Jayne saw Garrus stiffen from the corner of her eye where he stood next to Jack. She gave him a tiny shake of her head. “Miranda will head the second team. We have enough tanks and biotics to split up. Samara, Jacob, go with her. Jack, Thane, you're with me. Zaeed, Mordin, Tali go with her. Grunt, Garrus, with me.”

The teams shifted around the table so she could see them, give a final visual assessment. She nodded decisively. “We don't need a pep talk. We know why we're here. Let's get this done.”

“Yes, Shepard,” everyone said.

***

They took heavy, constant fire, but when they regrouped, everyone was there. Zaeed was bleeding freely from a head wound and Jayne watched Mordin slap Medi-gel on him as she caught her breath. No one on her team had taken any injuries worth complaining about, although Thane was looking pale and breathless. She tossed some rations to Jack at his side with a quick nod. Jack grinned.

Meanwhile, Miranda did a sweep of the central chamber. “Shepard, you're going to want to see this.”

The chamber was filled with pods, each one attached to a set of pipes that fed into a larger one that snaked across the ceiling. Jayne wasn't sure she wanted to think too hard about that. She crossed to where Miranda stood in front of the nearest set of pods and saw through the opaque covering at the face of one of her crew. She looked at the others she could see into from where she stood. Kelly Chambers. Dr. Chakwas.

“Shit, get them out of there!”

The entire squad went to work on breaking the coverings. She banged on the one in front of her even as its occupant woke, screaming. The yeoman _melted_ before her eyes and Jayne shouted a denial. It was too late to save her, and the yeoman dissolved and disappeared into the pipe attached to the pod. Around her she could hear the others successfully releasing their lost crew. They were alive and they were slowly waking. She helped Garrus with Dr. Chakwas's pod and caught the woman as she fell forward.

“I have you, Karin.”

“Commander? You came for us...”

“I said I would, didn't I? No one gets left behind on my watch.”

“So you did.” She struggled to stand and finally got her feet under her. The look on her face was terrible. “The colonists were...processed. Those swarms of little robots, they melted their bodies into a kind of gray liquid and fed them into these tubes.”

“And it ends here,” Jayne said fiercely. She looked at her crew, filthy, half dead and terrorized by what they'd experienced. They needed to get back to the ship. “Joker,” she called on the comms, “can you get a fix on our position? I've got wounded here.”

“Roger that, Commander. All those tubes lead into the main chamber right above you,” he went on. “The route is blocked by a security door, but there's another chamber that runs parallel to the one you're in.”

EDI abruptly picked up the commlink. “I cannot recommend that. Thermal emissions indicates the chamber is overrun with seeker swarms. Mordin's countermeasure cannot protect you against so many at once.”

“And conventional weapons are pretty much useless on them,” Jayne sighed. “They'll tear us apart. Fuck.”

“Maybe not. I might be able to generate a biotic field to keep them at bay,” Samara said. “I would not be able to protect all of us, but I could get a small team through if they stay close.”

“All right, we'll have to risk it. Mordin, take the crew to the ship and start getting them treated. Zaeed, go with him and provide cover.”

“Yes, Shepard.”

“Garrus, you're with me. Miranda, you too. You've earned the right to see what you built me for.”

“Yes, Commander.”

Jayne looked at the others, tired but determined. “The rest of you, stay sharp, stick together and keep them off our asses.” She thought she heard Jack mutter under her breath about Miranda's perfect one and she felt a tiny smile cross her lips. _Leave it to Jack_. “I expect to see each and every one of you back on the ship. That's an order.”

***

“This is it, all the tubes lead to this spot. EDI, what can you tell me?”

“The tubes are feeding into some kind of superstructure. It is emitting both organic and non-organic signatures. Given these readings, it must be massive. Shepard, if my calculations are correct, the superstructure is a Reaper.”

The platform glided smoothly through the central chamber, eventually floating into the largest open space where other platforms made a staging area. A frame hung there, with tubes and pipes attaching to it at several points. It looked...

“Not just any Reaper,” Jayne said, suddenly worried that she'd sent Samara away too soon. Another pair of hands might have been nice for this. “A human one.”

“It appears the Collectors have processed tens of thousands of humans. Significantly more will be required to complete the Reaper.”

“Yeah...” Jayne said softly. “Like all of us. What is the point?”

“It may be facilitating the equivalent of Reaper reproduction,” EDI said. “Or it may serve another purpose. I do not have the data to speculate further. However, it is clear the Collectors are merely pawns. The technology and ability needed to create this Reaper is not their own. It is likely that a different species is constructing this Reaper. In this case, the Collectors provide the labor.”

“The Collectors are just Protheans. Why would they help the Reapers?”

“The Reapers subdued the Protheans long ago. Probability suggests they attempted to create a Prothean Reaper. And failed. Over time they adapted the Protheans to suit their needs. Changed them, turned them into workers.”

“So this looks human because it's built from humans? Reapers are machines, why do they need this much organic...base?”

“Incorrect,” EDI replied sharply. “Reapers are sapient constructs. A hybrid of organic and inorganic material. The exact construction methods are unclear, but it seems probable that the Reapers absorb the essence of a species, utilizing it in their reproduction process.”

It had been a long time since Jayne had studied any biochemistry, but the theory seemed sound enough to her. Break down the organic tissue to its component parts, recreate it into something new. She remembered what Vigil had told her, back on Ilos. The Protheans had been a mix of many different species, all of them subsumed under the umbrella of a single cultural identity. If EDI was right, that was why the Protheans hadn't been able to be assimilated into a single Reaper; they were too disparate genetically. Sudden disgust roiled in her gut. It didn't matter _why_, what mattered was that she was going to stop it.

“Is it alive?”

“This Reaper appears to be in a very early stage of development, an embryo in human terms. I cannot, however, determine whether or not it has gained awareness.”

“All right, then. How do we destroy it?”

“The large tubes injecting the fluids are a weak structural point. If they are broken, the structure should collapse and the Reaper will fall.”

Jayne turned to Garrus and Miranda. “You heard her, let's do this.”

***

“Shepard to ground team,” she called into her comms as the embryonic abomination fell into the empty space below the platform. The fight had been hard, interspersed with Collector defenders as well as a weak version of what she'd seen Sovereign do, but they'd managed it. Now it was time to end this once and for all. “Give me a status report.”

“We're still here,” Jack replied after a few tense moments. Jayne could hear the firefight still going on in the background. “We should book it if you're ready to blow this place.”

“I am,” Jayne replied. “Get them out of there and back to the ship. Joker, prep the engines. I'm about to overload this place and blow it sky high.”

“Roger that, Commander.” Jayne opened up the control panel and looked for the best way to place charges on it. “Uh...Commander,” Joker said, still on the line. “You've got an incoming signal from the Illusive Man. EDI's patching it through.”

Miranda's omni-tool lit up and a hologram filled the space between them. “Shepard, you've done the impossible.”

“Kinda my thing, apparently,” she said off-handedly. “I'm a bit busy, what do you want?”

“I have a better option than destroying the base. I'm looking at the schematics EDI uploaded. A timed radiation pulse would kill the remaining Collectors, but leave the base intact. This is our chance, Shepard. They were building a Reaper. That knowledge, that framework, could save us.”

“Not on your life, asshole. This base is ten minutes from extinction. We won't be exploiting the deaths of thousands of people so you can tinker with the tech.”

“Don't be shortsighted. Our best chance against the Reapers is to turn their own resources against them.”

“I'm not so sure,” Miranda said, surprising Jayne. “Seeing it firsthand, using anything from this base seems like a betrayal.”

“If we ignore this opportunity, _that_ would be a betrayal. They were working directly with the Collectors. Who knows what information was buried there? This base is a gift, we can't just destroy it.”

“How exactly do you think to do that, huh? How much time do you think we have to understand any of this tech, much less use it safely without indoctrination? And how do you plan to use it anyhow? It requires massive amounts of organic material to build a Reaper. Are _you_ gonna start sacrificing colonies now? No, it ends here. It's going to be obliterated.”

“My goal is to save humanity from the Reapers,” the Illusive Man said, a thread of desperation in his voice. “At any cost. I've never hidden that from you. Imagine how many lives could be saved if we keep this base intact and use its knowledge to thwart the Reapers. Imagine the lives that will be lost if we don't.”

“That didn't answer my question on how you plan to do it. Let me guess, everyone who is _not_ a human gets to become soup? No. I won't let your zealotry compromise my morality. I've already gotten to see how far you'll go in your ruthlessness. You brought me back from the dead, at any cost. There's a point where mad science needs to be stopped by ethics. My decision is final.”

The hologram swung around to face Miranda. “Do not let Shepard destroy the base!”

“Or what? You'll replace me next?”

“I gave you an order, Miranda.”

“I noticed. Consider this my resignation.” She shut off her omni-tool in the middle of his rant about how much Cerberus had done for them all. Jayne smiled.

“Nice to see you pick a side.”

“Hmph, better late than never, right?” Miranda handed her the charges.

“Right. All right, let's move. We've got ten minutes before this overloads and blows the whole station apart.”

Of course, it was never going to be that easy. As soon as she tucked the control panel back inside itself, the chamber shuddered and the not quite dead Reaper embryo clawed its way over the edge, tipping the platform at an angle. Jayne sighed and drew her shotgun. Garrus and Miranda took up flanking positions behind whatever cover they could and they kept constant fire on the construct. Its laser weapon was weak, but still effective, burning through the scant cover of consoles and blast shields with ease. Jayne and Miranda took turns throwing biotics at it, disrupting its aim to scatter along the walls of the chamber. Garrus kept firing, accustomed to shooting between bursts of biotic attacks after so many battles at Jayne's side.

“I don't have _time_ for this shit,” she muttered, swapping the shotgun for her Collector rifle. The larval Reaper's armor was strong, but not strong enough to withstand the battery of comparable tech. Finally the armor burst off the construct and the lights died in its eyes. It began to fall again.

“Look out!” Garrus shouted as one of the arms swung forward to impact the platform. It broke off from the rest, throwing them all off balance. Garrus lost his footing and slid towards the edge. Jayne didn't even think, but followed him, her hand outstretched. They were separated by only inches, but it wasn't enough. He went over the edge.

Jayne hooked her foot in a length of cable that had broken through the platform, halting her own headlong slide towards oblivion. She leaned over the side and saw Garrus hanging on by his talons. She grasped his wrist and hauled on him with her biotics, pulling him up and over until he could get back on his feet. No sooner had they managed to take a breath when the Reaper's falling body exploded on the chamber floor below. The shockwave knocked into the platform, throwing them off again.

“Move! Move!” Jayne cried. The trio managed to get into the middle of the falling platform and ride the drop as if they were surfing. When it landed, the walls crashed around them, threatening to bury them under tons of disintegrating base. She and Miranda worked in concert to keep the debris off them until it stopped. They took stock of where they were and found a tunnel leading off the side of where they landed.

“...do you copy? C'mon, Shepard, don't leave me hanging!”

“I'm here, Joker. Did the ground team make it?”

“All survivors on board, we're just waiting for you.”

A seeker swarm flowed up around them. Jayne didn't spare any breath to answer and instead took off down the tunnel, Miranda and Garrus hard on her six. A voice echoed through the base, one she recognized, although her scattered mind couldn't place it at the moment. Disdain, disparagement. She _knew_ that voice, or something very like it. They ran.

Garrus got ahead of her and ran into a squad of Collectors, opening fire on them. He cried out as he took a hit in the leg, but he didn't stop running as he shot back. Miranda joined him, while Jayne took up a vanguard position. The base was beginning to break apart around them, the effect of the massive concussive force of the Reaper's fall. They had only a few minutes left on the timer for the overload.

“Go! Don't wait for me!”

“Jayne...” Garrus sounded angry, but he kept moving. She kept up behind them, guarding their backs as they fled. The Normandy appeared ahead of them and she felt relief flood her as her legs began to tire. Joker was there, firing into the Collectors following her. She watched Garrus limp on board, followed by Miranda. Both turned and covered her alongside her pilot while she ran. She'd fallen too far behind.

A long slab of debris fell in front of her, slicing cleaning through the platform nearest her ship. She grit her teeth and forced her legs to obey, ignoring the oncoming Collectors on her heels. She ran faster. She pushed off the platform just as it fell away beneath her feet. She didn't know if she'd gotten enough momentum. For one searing second she saw Thane crumpled on the floor of the airlock, Jack holding him tight. Their eyes met and then she was falling. She reached out her arms, desperate to catch on anything.

She caught on the edge of the bay doors. She held herself there as if she was her own biotic throw until Garrus reached down and grabbed her arm. He was strong enough to yank her inside the airlock and they tumbled to the deck plating in a clash of armor.

“EDI!” Joker shouted, stumbling and limping back to the cockpit. “Move your metal ass!”

“I do not _have_ an ass, Mr. Moreau,” the AI retorted. Jayne felt the ship begin to move as the bay doors closed. She stayed in Garrus's embrace, his face buried in her hair. She stared out from the cage of his arms and met Thane's gaze again. He nodded and gave her a small smile. They'd made it. All of them.


	33. Hail, the Conquering Hero**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some NSFW buried in here.

Omega had never looked more inviting. The Normandy berthed, helped more by automated towing drones than under its own power. She'd taken a beating and the entire command center was a mess. Jayne was grateful she'd unshackled EDI and that Tali and Legion both knew how to manipulate systems to keep them functional. The environmental systems were running, but barely. And the ship had no engines to speak of to cross the Sahrabarik system, relying on its momentum more than anything until the towing drones arrived.

Still, there was one last thing she needed to do before she disembarked and began repairs. She stepped into the QEC circle that would send her holographic signal to the Illusive Man. He was there, rage in every gesture.

“Shepard, you're making a habit of costing me more than time and money.”

“I'm not sorry the base is gone. Too many lives paid for this victory.”

“The first of many lives,” he sneered, as if he was reminding her of what was at stake. As if she could forget. “The technology on that base could have secured human dominance in the galaxy. Against the Reapers and beyond.”

“Ahh, there it is. Human dominance. Or is that just Cerberus? You think you can reign supreme over all the races that live here? You're a fool.”

“Strength for Cerberus is strength for every human. Cerberus _is_ humanity. I should have known you'd choke on the hard decisions. Too idealistic from the start.”

“Because I understand that we are just one race among many? Humans have fought for their place in the galaxy, and no one knows that better than me. But if you think we've earned the right to _conquer_ it then you're no better than the kind of people my family fought against for generations. You know everything about me, Illusive Man. You know my history. You should have known what you were unleashing. I would never side with you. I warned Miranda once that you were only out of my crosshairs temporarily. And now I'm telling you that time is up.”

“Don't turn your back on me, Shepard. I made you, I brought you back from the dead.”

“And I owe you _nothing_ for it. Thanks for the new parts, they've come in handy.” She tapped her commlink. “Joker? Lose this channel.”

The QEC faded around her and she leaned on the shattered table. She knew this wasn't the last she'd hear from the Illusive Man, or Cerberus. But for now, she had more immediate things to worry about.

***

Garrus snorted softly as he opened the door to the apartment. The neighborhood wasn't the greatest, even for Omega, but Jayne could see where he'd improved the security measures. Two motion detecting cameras peeked out from the plasteel walls and she assumed a tripwire had been set across the door even though she saw no evidence of it. Garrus was smart and Archangel had been suitably paranoid. With good reason.

“Home sweet home,” he said. “For whatever that's worth.”

She stepped into the apartment and looked around. It was laid out similarly to the ones they'd once both kept on the Citadel. Prefab housing was the same everywhere. The kitchen was a tiny galley separated by a bar from the open living space. Down a dingy hallway she could see two doors. One for bedroom, one for bathroom. There were no windows, but in their place were a pair of framed holo screens showing waving trees and a glorious sunset. They didn't seem in keeping with Garrus's personality, especially during the vigilante period of his life, and she smirked at him. His mandibles flickered with amusement.

“I wasn't really here enough to pay attention,” he said to her tacit tease.

“I suppose it served well enough as a bolthole.”

“It did.”

He looked it over while she watched him. She'd made it as far as the bar and leaned on it. He'd closed the door but stood in the entryway still, so out of place with this environment, and yet...wholly a part of it. It sparked a memory of more carefree days, when they'd first met and discovered they were neighbors. Overlaid on her view of him standing there she saw him with her box of books, awkward and unsure of himself until she'd teased the C-Sec detective out of hiding. The memory faded as he turned his head and his scarred cheek and mandible caught the light. They'd come a long way from those more innocent times.

She shook herself mentally. They were alive. They'd made it back from hell. They still had each other, and that was all they needed. “Tell me there's at least clean sheets.”

His mandibles flicked again in a grin. “Yes. My mother would have my hide if I didn't keep those well organized.”

He walked down the hallway to the bedroom and opened the door, disappearing into the room where she couldn't see him. She stayed where she was. He didn't talk about his mother nearly as much as his father. She knew his mother was ill, but that was only because Liara had given her access to Shadow Broker files. They hadn't talked about what she found there. Much of it was not pretty. But she couldn't judge. Looking at this apartment, knowing what he'd done and lived through in this place, it was no surprise to her that he had started going down a very dark path. Knowing how rudderless he was with her dead...

She shook herself again. This was not a time to dwell on memories or morose intel she shouldn't be privy to without his consent. Someday they'd talk about it. But not today. She followed him down the hall and leaned on the door to watch him spread fresh sheets on the curved turian bed. “Been a long time since I slept in one of these.”

He turned and glanced at her over his shoulder. He was grinning again. “Think you can manage?”

“Undoubtedly, as long as you're in it.”

He turned back to the sheets and she waited long enough for him to get the edges tucked in before she tackled him. Garrus was still bent over the bed, otherwise it would never have worked; his balance was too good. She landed against his back, her arms clinging to his cowl. With a muffled grunt he toppled onto the bed face first, although he caught himself remarkably well on his hands. She laughed in his ear. “Gotcha, babe.”

In a flash he'd flipped them and she was now on her back in the gentle bowl of the bed. Carefully, deliberately slow, Garrus pulled off his visor and tossed it to the nightstand. When he looked back at her, his eyes were piercing. Before she could say anything, he lowered himself to her and kissed her, the hard mouth plates parting over her lips, his tongue sneaking between them to fill her mouth. They made quick work of each other's clothes, leaving them scattered wherever they fell. He rose to his knees, his spurs jutting out. She slung her legs over them, knowing they were sensitive. He grinned down at her, tracing patterns into her skin idly.

“I love you, Jayne.”

She smiled up at him. The words were hard for him, she knew this. She opened her arms to him and he nestled against her, his keelbone jutting into her sternum, but neither minded. She raised her head to meet his kiss again. She stroked her hands up the back of his neck, her fingertips brushing the back of his head, finding the soft places between plates the way she knew he liked.

His hips tilted against hers and she could feel him emerging from his groin plates. She wiggled against him, urging him on. He rubbed against her heat, sparking desire behind her eyes and along her nerves. He laced their hands together and held them fast near her head, bracing himself over her.

“I love you so much, Garrus.”

A ragged sound came out of him as he pushed into her, so slow she could feel each ridge of his cock. His subvocals vibrated through her, adding to the sensation. She was pinned and couldn't do a single thing to make him go faster, or deeper, and he knew it. She glared at him. He grinned at her. Then he tilted his hips again and sank in all the way, making her gasp as he bottomed out. He withdrew in equally slow measure until she was squirming and whimpering beneath him.

“Do it again,” she whispered.

He did, keeping to a rhythm of slow thrusts that drove her increasingly desperate. The pressure to reach her climax built just as slow, and she writhed and cried out, begging, encouraging. When she finally came, it rushed through her like a wave, unending and powerful. She clenched on him, her legs trembling around his hips, her hands squeezing his. He growled into her ear and the aftershocks hit her, making her jerk. Garrus let go of her hands and hitched her hips higher into his, leaning back as he often did to watch himself sink and withdraw from her body. There was always an expression of awe on his face like that and she gazed at him, not even daring to blink in case she missed a second of it.

His eyes traveled up her body to meet hers and it took her breath away. She should have known, however, not to trust that quiet gleam in his eye. He stilled inside her and his thumb caressed her clit at the same time. She squawked and her back lifted off the bed as she twisted away from the onslaught of sensation. A chuckle threaded through his subvocals and he did it again and again, wringing another blinding orgasm from her. Only then did he began to thrust into her harder, deeper. She wrapped her legs as far around his waist as she could, clinging to him with her thighs and gleefully soaking in his growls and groans. He gave up the pretense of drawing it out and pounded at her until he fell over the edge and pulsed inside her with a broken cry.

He pulled out from her body and lay down next to her, his talons brushing back the curls from her forehead before he leaned down and pressed his brow to hers. “Can I finish making the bed now?”

Jayne sighed happily. “If you must, I suppose.”

But he didn't get up and she didn't move out of his embrace. At some point, they fell asleep that way.

***

Repairs on the Normandy took weeks. Jayne spent much of that time answering messages from Anderson and filing reports with the Council on what they'd found and on Cerberus. Her status as a Spectre was still mostly a technicality rather than an actuality, but the Council at least applauded her decision to make a clean break from the terrorist organization.

She felt like they should be on the run, always looking over their shoulders, but strangely she didn't have any of those feelings. Of course, that could be because Aria T'Loak had enfolded her and her entire crew into the orbit of her security. There was a krogan that hung out at the corridor that led to their docking bay at all times, as well as numerous plain clothed asari commandos that followed her whenever she went into the market.

The longer they stayed, the more of the crew began to go their separate ways. Zaeed left first, taking on a bounty before the sublight engines had even been replaced on the ship. There were few words left to say between them, but their parting wasn't hostile at least. Samara was the next to leave, her vow completed. Jacob took their break from Cerberus with more good grace than she'd expected, but he too went off on his own, following a lead on something personal. Tali went back to the Migrant Fleet, and Legion to the Collective. Miranda went into a sort of seclusion, wrapping up her loose ends with Cerberus before they could come home to roost. Mordin would stay on Omega for a while.

At the end of a month, the only ones left were Jack, Thane and Grunt. She would be dropping off the odd pair at the Citadel when she and Garrus returned to Council Space. As for Grunt...

“Shepard!” Wrex crowed when she saw his huge red head at the top of the stairs of Afterlife. Aria smirked at her for a moment before waving a lazy hand at her guards to let her pass. Jayne ran to Wrex and let herself be engulfed. “You did good, pyjak. I knew you would.”

“Thanks, Warlord.”

He lifted her off the floor in a bone crushing hug before he let her go. He turned to Garrus and offered his arm. Garrus took it with a twist of his mandibles. “Good to see you too, turian.”

“And you, krogan.”

“Look at you, the conquering heroes. I always knew you would become legendary.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Picking up Grunt.” Jayne raised an eyebrow at him and he guffawed. His ruby eyes gleamed. “And I wanted to make sure you were in one piece with my own eyes. Rumors are so hard to pick apart these days.”

“I'm glad to see you too.”

“Now, tell me everything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been so long since I wrote turian smut...I hope it turned out okay.
> 
> And of course, we had to have one more cameo by Uncle Urdnot. *grins*


	34. Screaming Into the Void

“Commander?” Yeoman Chambers called to her. They had only just docked at the Citadel, dropping off Jack and Thane and wondering what their next move would be. It was strange to have no set plans, but Jayne couldn't say she would complain about it after the year she'd had. “You have a request from Admiral Hackett coming in. There's...there's a lot of encryption on it.”

“I'll take it in my quarters, Kelly. Thank you.” She went and settled in at her terminal and activated the link. She was only mildly surprised when the glass screen holding her ship collection went dark before clearing to show the Admiral in real time. “Sir?”

“Commander, thank you for your time. I'll be brief. We have a deep cover operative out in batarian space. Name's Dr. Amanda Kenson. Dr. Kenson recently reported that she found evidence of an imminent Reaper invasion.”

“Why are you calling me?”

“This morning I received word the batarians arrested her. They're holding her in a secure prison outpost on terrorism charges. I need you to infiltrate the prison and get her out of there. As a favor to me, I'm asking you to go in alone.”

_No support from top brass_, she thought at that. _He wants no backlash to hit him_.

“What's she actually doing out there?” she asked aloud.

“We only talk when we need to. She's deep cover.”

“That doesn't tell me anything useful, Admiral. If I'm going in blind, it won't end well.”

“I heard she was investigating a rumor of a Reaper artifact,” he said with a sigh, giving in with remarkable ease. It didn't make her feel better. “Her last report said she'd found it.”

“The Alliance has been denying the Reaper threat. That must be some evidence she found.”

“She believes it's a Reaper device, proof that the Reapers are indeed planning to invade. I've known her a long time, if she says it's the real deal, it's worth checking out. This is not an Alliance operation, Shepard. Just one person doing a favor for a friend. The batarians would understandably take offense if this was in any way officially sanctioned by the Alliance.”

“Lucky for you I'm a Spectre, isn't it?” she asked, challenging. His face grew stern but the expression fell within moments. Neither of them felt the need to point out that she'd been warning of Reapers for years and no one had bothered to listen. Although, in all actuality, if this Dr. Kenson was in batarian space doing research, that had to be at someone's behest. Probably Hackett's. He _had_ listened, for whatever that was worth.

“You keep this quiet, and there will be nothing to worry about in terms of retribution. I need discretion on this, Commander. Go in quiet, or don't go at all. I don't want to risk the batarians just killing her if they know we're coming for her.”

“I'll make this a priority, sir.”

“Thank you. Hackett, out.”

The screen went dark and Jayne stared at her ship collection, not really seeing them. The crew were all mostly healed from their injuries during their incarceration on the Collector Base. But the squad had already left her. Not that it mattered, she wouldn't have taken any of them with her, even if she wanted to. Hackett was right. If she showed up with a team, the batarians would likely kill Kenson out of hand. Not to mention the constant threat of war hanging between their two races. She didn't like it, but she didn't see another choice. Her terminal pinged with the location's coordinates.

“Joker,” she said into her comm. _No set plans, how quickly that changes_.

“Commander?”

“Set a course for Bahat.”

“What for?”

“It's classified, Flight Lieutenant.”

“Aye aye,” he said, sounding more scared than miffed. Jayne never used his rank unless she had to, and they both knew it. A thread of foreboding trickled down her spine. She had no doubt that this wasn't going to end well no matter what she did. The best she could do for her crew was to keep them out of it as much as possible.

***

“And you can't take anyone, or tell me what this is about?” Garrus asked, watching her pack.

“Right.”

“Jayne...I don't like it.”

“I don't either, babe. But it's better this way. The less you know, the less blame you'll take when it goes to shit.”

“You're expecting something terrible, aren't you?”

She stopped her packing and crossed the Loft to him, sliding into his lap and putting her arms around him. She nodded into his cowl. His arms held her tight for a moment before letting her go with a deep breath.

“I'll be here when you get back.”

“You better be, Garrus.” She placed a kiss on his mandible and went back to her packing.

***

The vision wasn't like that of a Prothean beacon, although there were similarities. She couldn't parse them out, however. She fell to her knees, her strength sapped. The image of the Reapers on the other side of the relay seared behind her eyes and she wanted to scream. But her lips would not move. The afterimages faded and she gagged as she fell forward. She heard footsteps approaching, heard the telltale click of a heat sink behind her head.

“I can't let you start the Project,” Kenson said. Jayne closed her eyes, breathing through her nose to try and clear her head. This was so far beyond pearshaped she wasn't quite sure what she could do about it. “I can't let you stop the Arrival.”

Jayne sighed and struggled to her feet. This was going to hurt.

She was right. And Kenson got away in the firefight.

Object Rho gleamed in her periphery, a silently calling beacon of indoctrination pulsating from its curving spines. She shook herself, fighting its pull. Kenson was saying something over the intercom, something muddled and distant about letting go, about letting the Object into her mind. She knew she shouldn't do that, but it was too hard to resist. The artifact sent out a shockwave that threw her backwards to lie in a heap on the floor. Her vision blacked out and when she came to, all she could see was the glowing yellow of control in the faces of those around her.

“Take her to the medbay and patch her up,” Dr. Kenson said, her voice twisted and wrong. _Like a Collector_, Jayne thought. She felt a needle against her neck. “We need her alive.”

She passed out again, her body unable to fight both the Object and Kenson's drugs filling her veins. _NO no no no no_....

***

_“Shepard,” the voice said._

_ Oh shit. Am I dead?_

_ “You are not. But you are needed. The Arrival is coming.”_

When she woke, she was out of time.

***

Jayne landed heavily in the airlock, not even removing her helmet as she passed through decontamination before jogging to the cockpit. “Get us out of here, Joker!” she snapped.

He didn't ask, didn't even speak, just turned the prow of the Normandy away from the asteroid and towards the relay. She didn't wait to see them go through it, but went instead to the galaxy map. She didn't want to watch, but she had to know. She owed it to the lives she was about to take. She had to finish this with her feet on the ground and her eyes on the target.

She didn't know where Joker was taking them, and honestly, she didn't care. It was a distraction at best. Moments after the inertial dampeners kicked back in, a blinking light appeared on the galaxy map, growing steadily brighter and wider until it flashed red and left a gap where the relay had been. She took a breath and closed her eyes. It was done. Three hundred thousand batarians had paid their life's blood for nothing more than a delay. She knew no one had gotten away. _Like a supernova_...

“Jayne?” Garrus said, seeming to appear out of thin air next to her. On the other side, Yeoman Chambers turned her head aside, giving them the illusion of privacy. She'd done all she could to protect the Cerberus crew that had stayed with her, all of them putting their lives into the hands of the Alliance. Hackett had wanted discretion. He didn't get it. There were going to be repercussions. Jayne looked at Garrus and whatever he saw in her face through her helmet made him pause. “What happened? What did you do?”

_“This seems a victory to you, a star system sacrificed,” Harbinger said. “But even now, your greatest civilizations are doomed to fall. Your leaders will beg to serve us.”_

_ “Maybe you're right, maybe we can't win this. But we'll fight you regardless, just like we did Nazara. Just like I'm doing now. However insignificant we might be to you, we will fight, we will sacrifice, and we will find a way. That's what humans do.”_

_ “Know this as you flee in vain, your time will come. Your species will fall. Prepare yourselves for the Arrival.” The image of the giant Reaper faded away, leaving her a clear view of the relay hanging in space, waiting. She turned away from it and called the ship to come pick her up._

“I did what I had to do,” she whispered, coming back to the present.

She walked away from the galaxy map, grateful that no one followed her into the elevator, not even Garrus. Exhaustion was setting in, and various aches and pains were making themselves known. She would happily sleep for a week, but she knew that wouldn't save her. She went to Dr. Chakwas instead.

***

“Looks like you've recovered,” the Admiral said.

“Hackett,” she replied, sitting up. She noticed that Dr. Chakwas had left and the door to the Medbay was closed and locked. This wasn't what she'd had in mind, but she'd take it.

“Sounds like you went through hell down there. How are you feeling?”

“Fine. No more visions, if that's what you're asking. I wasn't expecting to see you here.”

“You went out there as a favor to me. I decided to debrief you in person.”

_You mean you figured you owed me the courtesy before the shit hit the fan_, she thought, not quite keeping the sourness off her face. Regret was reflected on his as he evidently guessed what she was thinking. Regret...and resignation. She was going to be thrown under the proverbial bus. So be it.

“Does that mean we're back in Alliance space?” she asked aloud.

“Yes. Ganymede Station, in fact. Did you really not know?”

“I've been a little out of it, Admiral.” He grunted. “So, debrief in person before I turn myself over to your authority, is that it?”

“I felt you deserved face to face. Shepard, the mass relay exploded and destroyed an entire batarian system. What the hell happened?”

She grabbed the datapad she'd recorded of the events and got up to hand it to him. “I confirmed Dr. Kenson's proof. The Reapers were coming, and destroying the relay was the only way to stop them.” He looked through it, skimming the details. She watched his face change as he read. “Kenson sedated me for two days. I started the engines with little more than an hour left. I tried to warn the system, but she stopped me. She was heavily indoctrinated,” she said heavily, waving a hand to encompass everything they knew about indoctrination without words. “And she did everything she could to stop me. And then...time ran out.”

“The batarians report no survivors from Aratoht. At least you tried.” He closed the files and looked back to her. “And you believe the Reaper invasion was really that imminent?”

“No doubt about it. We had literally minutes to spare.”

“I'm sure all the details are in this report. I won't lie to you, Commander. The batarians will be after blood, and there's just enough evidence for a witch hunt. We can't afford a war with them.”

“Not this close to a galaxy wide extinction event,” she interjected ruefully. “Alliance Command will want to make me a scapegoat.”

“I'm not sure I'd put it that way.”

“You don't have to, I just did.” He didn't deny it and she gave him a small smile. “Those batarians died to save trillions of lives. If I could have saved them too, I would have. But I know what they'll do. The Hegemony will twist this into me exacting revenge for the death of my parents.” He didn't deny that either and she nodded. “What do you want me to do?”

“If it were up to me, I'd give you a damn medal. But it's not up to me.” He sighed and paced the small space between the beds. “Evidence against you is shoddy at best. But at some point, you'll have to go to Earth and face the music. I can't stop it, but I can and will make them fight for it.”

“I would think this would be a Council matter. I'm a Spectre, after all.”

“The Council has already given over jurisdiction to the Alliance. The batarians are not a council race, and we are. They expect us to deal with you ourselves.”

“Nice,” she muttered. So much for renewed loyalty now that she was no longer aligned with the Cerberus threat. “So...do I turn myself in to you? Is that why we're in the home system? Court martial, summary execution?”

“I doubt it will be that dramatic. We'll probably take control of the Normandy, however. Either reassign you, or...whatever Alliance Command decides is your fate.”

“Are we ready for a Reaper invasion, Admiral? I need honesty here.”

“It's hard to say. It took multiple fleets, and the Destiny Ascension, to take down just one. If they attack en masse...” He shook his head. “No, Commander, we're not ready.”

“So what you need is to stall for time until they actually arrive, isn't it? To get the other races on board with the reality of it. If time is what you need, I'll gladly take the fall, stand trial if need be, once I have safeguarded my crew.”

“I'm glad to see working with Cerberus didn't strip you of your honor.” He seemed to come to a decision. “Do whatever you have to do to finish up out there. But when Earth calls, you better answer. That's the best I can do for you. Be there with your dress blues on, ready to take the hit.” He handed the datapad back to her. “In the meantime, you keep this. I don't need to see what's in it to know you did the right thing.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Shepard, you did a hell of a thing. I know it, if no one else does. I sent you out there. I knew you would do what it took to get the job done. You always have. I know...I know you could be angry at me for how it's playing out. And rightfully so, some might say. I won't forget.”

“Thank you, sir.” He turned to leave, and she stood straight as she called him back. “Admiral, we have maybe only months now. Don't waste it.”

He nodded. “Don't you waste it either, Shepard.”

He saluted her and waited until she had returned it, then walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're almost there...


	35. The Bitter Pill of the Right Decision

Jayne could count on one hand the number of times she'd been inside the apartment on Intai'sei once she'd 'won' it. The first few days, they didn't talk much. But they desperately christened each and every room, every horizontal surface. And some that were not so horizontal. But time was running out, and they needed to talk. They were sprawled together on the floor of the living room, a pillow from the sofa stuffed behind Garrus's head, when she finally broached the subject.

“You should go home to Palaven for a while, babe. We don't know how long I'll be tied up with this thing and...” She stopped speaking when his talons tightened on her almost painfully. She rose up on an elbow and looked into his face, so beloved, so memorized. She had a feeling it was going to be a long time before she saw it again once they left this bit of sanctuary. “Garrus...”

“How did you know?”

“Liara inherited all of the Shadow Broker's files.” She didn't have to say more than that. Garrus had never really stopped being a detective. It was an easy extrapolation to let him assume that not only had Liara gone through them, but then she let Jayne do the same. The only part he didn't know was the extent of the Shadow Broker's information on him. She let him sit up, then watched him stand up and begin pacing. She asked very gently, “What is Corpalis Syndrome?”

“It's comparable to your human disease, Alzheimer's.”

“Is it...?”

“Fatal?” He stopped and pinned her with a glittering – entirely too brittle – stare. She shifted around on the floor so she was sitting with her back against the sofa to avoid it. “Yes.”

“How long has she been...?” She couldn't finish the question. Couldn't put it out there aloud. A woman she'd never met, _would_ never meet. Not now. But someone who had shaped who he was in countless little ways. Someone who loved him enough to let him go. Just as she had to be.

“The diagnosis came years ago. Before I joined C-Sec. For a long time it was dormant. Then, two years ago, it grew more aggressive. She's been in and out of the hospital four times this year alone.”

Two years ago...

When Jayne had died.

A sob caught in her throat for all that Garrus had carried on his own. She breathed shallowly, not wanting him to know. But of course he did. She got off the floor before he could come and comfort her. Her, the one keeping him from going home to his dying mother. She shrugged into a robe. This was not the kind of conversation to have while naked. The atmosphere between them had chilled and Garrus went and put on a pair of soft, loose lounge pants, his spurs jutting out like the deadly appendages they were supposed to be.

“You need to go home,” she whispered when she had her breathing under control. She couldn't look at him while she said it, though, instead looking out the window at the swirling gas clouds that made Intai'sei so beautiful.

“You need me still.”

“Garrus,” she chided. “I've kept you from home long enough. The end of the world is coming and you're going to...” _Lose your mother first_. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You need to make your peace and rebuild your bridges. I'll be fine.”

His arms came around her from behind and she leaned against his keel. They stayed that way a long time.

***

She walked with him to the shuttle bay. She was already in her dress blues. It was the kind of day to kill two birds with one stone.

The Citadel was much the same as it always had been, loud, busy, blissfully blind to the dangers lurking around the corner. Her meeting with the Council had gone as well as expected. Her Spectre status was active but, pending whatever punishment she was about to face from the Alliance, it was also on hold. The smug look on Udina's face was nearly enough to make her spit, but she'd held it back.

“I love you, you know that right?” she asked as she and Garrus stood in front of the shuttle that would carry him back to Palaven.

He rested his forehead against hers, uncaring who saw. From her periphery she saw some frowns from the other turians milling around, but they were aimed more at the fact that they stood in the middle of the walkway rather than the fact that a human and a turian were together. They stood there, their hands twined around each other's, their breathing synchronized.

“I do know that, Jayne,” he whispered. “And I love you.”

“My turian bad boy.” His mandibles flicked, just once. “I'll keep you in the loop as much as I can.”

“And I'll do the same.”

Jayne sniffed, feeling a sting in her eyes. “Dammit, I swore I wouldn't cry.”

Garrus let go of her hand to brush his talons across the sweep of her cheekbone. Before he could speak, the klaxon sounded for boarding. Jayne tipped up her head and kissed him. He cupped her face in his hands, holding her in place. It wasn't enough. It would never be enough.

“Go. I'll talk to you soon.”

“Jayne...” He sighed heavily. Then a hardness settled over his features, his plates drawn together. “I love you, Commander Shepard.”

“I love you, Detective Vakarian. I love you so much.”

He kissed her one last time and broke away before he couldn't do it. She saw him through the airlock and only stepped away when the shuttle crew pushed her aside so they could do their final checks. She went to the observation lounge and watched the ship pull away from the Citadel. Then she squared her shoulders and turned resolutely towards the Presidium Ring.

***

Earth.

Vancouver.

The air was so fresh it burned in her lungs. It had been a long time since she'd set foot on the planet. Years. So much had changed since then. It should have been a warmer homecoming than it was.

There were protests. From where she stood on the landing strip of Alliance Command, she could hear them, although she couldn't see them past the twin lines of soldiers that blocked their view of her as well. They were too far away for her to know what they were saying, but she'd been watching the media vids on approach. They were protesting her arrest. They were deriding her belief in fairy tale monsters coming to destroy the universe. A smaller but no less vocal group were supporting her as the face of Cerberus and Earth First regardless of her public disavowal of both organizations.

She'd gotten messages from Garrus at every FTL dump. He sent her pics of Palaven, a still of him and his family. They'd had a short vidcall with a signal so spotty it had only lasted a few minutes. But his mother had been lucid, and in her eyes Jayne saw just how proud she was of her son. Of _her_, Jayne Shepard, first human Spectre and defender of the galaxy. She'd broken down and sobbed like a child afterwards.

Now she stood at the entrance to Alliance Command, the wind ruffling her hair that was too long for regulation, wearing a uniform that no longer fit quite right.

_The Arrival is coming_, the voice in the void whispered in her mind.

Jayne stood up straight, raising her chin into the wind, into the bevy of media drones that hovered in the air. She walked through the corridor of Alliance soldiers without flinching. She dared any of them to meet her eyes. She saw Admiral Hackett at the other end on the long walkway, right in front of the doors. She saw the military police at his side.

She knew this wasn't going to be easy. She knew the Alliance was going to hold her accountable for this. And they should; it had been her decision, no matter how justified it was. She hadn't been under orders, it had been a favor for a friend. She had known going in that Hackett wanted to save his own ass from any fallout. It was the way of the top brass. She comforted herself with the fact that Garrus knew everything she did, and he was going to try and get the Hierarchy working on it. Wrex knew everything. Miranda knew everything. Liara knew everything. She'd done what she could for the rest of the galaxy to prepare. It was time to face the music and, with any luck, spin out some time for Hackett and Uncle David to do something here on Earth.

She marched up to the Admiral and saluted smartly. This was a show and she would give it. They'd never see her bleed, never see her weak. Media all over the planet and on every Alliance world would be seeing this. The Council would be seeing it. Garrus would be seeing it. She had to make it count.

“Sir, I, Jayne Anne Shepard, Council Spectre and Commander of the Fifth Fleet Battalion, do surrender myself to the custody of Systems Alliance.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know...it's not a happy ending. Let's face it, ME2 does not HAVE a happy ending. 
> 
> There is one part left to tell. It's in the works, but I make no promises on when it will be ready for posting. But I can promise that Jayne and Garrus will be back. 
> 
> It's been a real journey, writing this fic. And this year has not been kind. Thank you all, dear readers, for sticking with me and for reading. And for your comments. Feedback is, as ever, the lifeblood of a writer. 
> 
> Cheers!


End file.
